There and Back Again
by ElyssaCousland
Summary: Sierra is a modern-day business consultant who finds herself suddenly in her favourite video game, Dragon Age. Her actions will change the history of Thedas. But what is a modern-day girl with too much knowledge supposed to do in a strange world surrounded by magic and monsters? M!Cousland Warden. Rated T for now - eventual M. Spoilers: DA:O, Awakenings, the Calling, Stolen Throne
1. Dreams

**A/;N:**

**This is my first non-short story. I hope I can keep the momentum going. I plan to post roughly a chapter per week. Feedback is always welcome!**

**Many thanks to Kira Tamarion, my beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own.  
**

**As with everyone here, I don't own Dragon Age, I just enjoy playing in their sandbox.  
**

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**Chapter One: Dreams**

I walked, hobbled really, trying to hurry. Back to my house. Back to the safety of my four walls. Back to the room I wished I could stay in forever. The bags in my hands seemed to grow heavier with each step, and I was out of breath from hurrying. Cursing, I shifted my grip on the damned groceries again. As happened more and more frequently lately, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and I abruptly lurched to the side, plowing into another unfortunate pedestrian. The man swore, barely keeping his feet, and I shuffled away as fast as I could with blurry vision and ringing in my ears. For once, I didn't even hear the insults hurled at me, that three-letter word that had been used to humiliate me since my earliest childhood memories - fat_. Not that it was untrue_, I normally thought to myself whenever someone muttered that epithet in my direction, _but why was it any business of theirs?_ This time, the pounding in my head completely blocked it out, and I passed around a corner out of sight without even realising I'd been insulted.

Initially, my dizzy spells had only lasted moments, but they had been getting worse; I had fainted, a few times, and woken in an ambulance or hospital, but at first if I could stay on my feet they would just pass. A million tests, a dozen doctors, and no one had any answers. The fainting spells were becoming more frequent, lasting longer, and the last time I'd been unconscious for an entire day. My therapist, the one I'd reluctantly agreed to visit after the third hospital trip, had decided they were panic attacks. I hadn't thought of myself as someone prone to panic before they started. I certainly was, by now. When the dizziness hit, I would try anything - breathing into a paper bag, sitting with my head between my knees, I had even tried alcohol. Once, mortified at myself, I even tried a joint, all with no effect. I took the medication the therapist recommended, which only made me nauseous.

It became a nightmare for me to leave the house. The embarrassment of waking in hospital was too much, so I stayed behind closed doors. Once I had even been robbed, waking on a street corner with no purse, no wallet; that was the proverbial last straw. With no family, and a recent layoff with a severance package that would keep my rent paid for a while yet, no one noticed when I blacked out if I never left home, and eventually I would wake, stiff, with a full bladder and an empty stomach, and things would be normal again. Until the next time.

But I still needed groceries. I no longer drove, not trusting myself not to black out behind the wheel, and that left me with walking to the nearest store. It wasn't all that far, but I hadn't been one for exercise since childhood, and I found even the few blocks left me panting. And that was assuming I made it there and back without passing out. Which it seemed I wasn't going to be able to do, this time. Careening around the corner, I found a bench up against the side of the building I was passing, and sank onto it, groceries still in hand. I fought the feeling, struggled to stay awake, but felt the blackness take me anyway. My body slumped to the side, as I dropped the grocery bags, and remembered nothing else.

The things I hadn't told anyone about the blackouts were the dreams. My therapist and a variety of frustrated emergency room doctors already thought I was crazy; I certainly wasn't going to make that worse by explaining the dreams that haunted me while I was unconscious. I justified that by assuring myself they were nothing other than the random firings of nerve cells in my too-imaginative brain, and trying to ignore them. After all, even coma patients who woke after years of unconsciousness reported dreaming, right? But the dreams were too real. I had started needing more and more time to recover from them; when I woke I was unsure who I was, where I was. The dreams felt more real to me than being awake.

The first dream I could remember, the first blackout, I saw the dragon. Massive, evil, such a dark red it almost appeared purple, the beast flew over me. The wind from its wings battered against me, knocking me over, its roar deafening me. I had scrambled to get away, scraping my hands on the rocks beneath me, feet scrabbling for purchase, until I made the mistake of looking down and realising that it was not rock shards I was sliding over, but jagged pieces of bone... I woke in the back of an ambulance, my blood curdling scream almost causing the paramedic who was driving to careen off the road. It had only taken a few seconds to figure out where that dream had come from - with the layoff, and nothing left to do after sending out resumes, I'd been playing computer games to kill time. One game in particular, really - Dragon Age: Origins. Convinced I'd just overdone it on the fantasy, I tried to put the dream out of my mind as much as possible.

The next dream was about darkspawn. I was in the deep roads, from the same damned game, watching from above as the horde marched. The sheer number of disgusting creatures was overwhelming, the smell of rot and decay rising to assail my nostrils, the sound of thousands of feet roaring, the high-pitched calls of the shrieks barely discernible above the rest of the din. I watched for what felt like hours, waking finally in the emergency room, apparently only unconscious for about an hour. I shuddered, remembering the oppressive aura of true evil that rose from the horde, but again, I put it down to too much time in front of the computer, too late at night. I put aside the game for a while, thinking perhaps I just needed a break from that sort of dark fantasy. I watched romantic comedies and re-read favourite books, but it made no difference. The dreams kept coming with each blackout, and eventually I returned to the game.

As I isolated myself further, avoiding leaving the house for fear of public blackouts, I played more and more. Having nothing else more compelling to do, when I finished the game, I started again. I played first as a human, then as an elf, a dwarf. I played the mage origin twice, trying different tactics each time. I resolved not to look up the outcomes of any of the decisions, and tried all the different ones. Support Harrowmont once, Bhelen the next time. Kill the elves, kill the werewolves, try to find a compromise. Kill Loghain, or recruit him. Take Morrigan's deal or don't. Romance Alistair, or Zevran, or giggle as I tried to manage a lesbian relationship with Leliana. Deal with the devastation of Alistair sacrificing himself to save me, or watch him cry over me at my funeral if I saved him. I tried them all. My favourite was playing a human noble, a rogue, and ending up as the Queen of Ferelden, even though poor Alistair hated it. But he was so sweet, so kind, so noble...I played the romance scenes with him over and over, falling head over heels with the handsome templar_. It was a good thing_, I decided, _that I don't have any close friends to see me pining away over a fictional character in a computer game. I'd never live it down._

I read the books by David Gaider, and while they were interesting in their own way, they weren't as compelling as playing the game. Though knowing who Alistair's mother was threw me, for a bit. I pictured him as being huge...how could he be half elven? Elves were supposed to be tiny. I knew the children of elves and humans looked human, but I figured the height might at least be affected. I didn't dwell on it.

And in between, the blackouts. The dreams. Sometimes I would have more-or-less pleasant ones; images of Alistair's childhood in Redcliffe Castle, or Leliana as a youngster singing for an older woman I assumed to be Lady Cecilie, the Orlesian noblewoman who raised her, or Morrigan's fumbling first attempts at shapechanging. Sometimes they would be full of demons and abominations, darkspawn and undead. However, I couldn't help but notice that with each blackout, the dreams were becoming longer, more detailed, more real, and the actual world felt more and more like a dream. I knew I should have been terrified, but somehow, I couldn't bring myself to care that much. It wasn't like I was leaving anything of importance behind, like anyone would truly care if I didn't wake up. It was only the inconvenience, the embarrassment of the blackouts that caused me any real grief.

This dream was the most immersive of all, I thought to myself as I looked around. I was standing in the middle of a field, wearing my jeans, jacket, and t-shirt, dark hair flowing down my back, with my feet crammed into my ill-fitting cheap shoes. The scent of wild flowers tickled my nose, as well as a whiff of manure. I looked around to see a busy farm-hold in the distance, and without any other ideas, I walked in that direction. The act of walking brought me up short; I hadn't realised, but this body I was inhabiting was definitely not my own. I stopped and looked down, realising that instead of the roundness of my stomach, the flare of my hips that I was used to, I found a long, lean body, with small breasts high on my chest, slim hips, and thighs which didn't touch when I stood. Despite my changed body, my clothes fit fine, which seemed strange. For the first time in a long time, as I walked, I did not feel out of breath, my legs didn't burn with effort. As I returned to crossing the field, I felt slightly giddy, even skipping a few steps, until my feet started to protest. I ended up having to sit down and take off my shoes, walking the rest of the way barefoot. Smiling, I stepped onto the well-packed dirt in front of the small farmhouse.

I could hear children, somewhere in the distance, giggling and laughing as they chased each other and played juvenile games. There were dogs barking, and the sound of chickens and pigs, and I wandered around, wide-eyed. Being born and raised in the city, I had never been to a farm before, but this looked...rustic, even to me. There was no paved road, just a dirt trail leading to the farmhouse. I saw no cars, no trucks, but there was a large cart that I assumed could be hitched to a horse. I could hear no tractors, and could just distinguish men, in the fields, harvesting some sort of plant by hand. I wondered if they could be Amish. I had never seen anyone Amish, but knew that they did not accept modern technology at all.

I wandered further, coming up on the small farmhouse. It too was primitive, made out of stone and wood. There was only one small window, and the glass was warped, yellowing and thick, like pictures I had seen of ancient cathedrals. The roof was thatched - I did a double take at that - and thin smoke was curling up out of a chimney. I didn't go up to the door, deciding to look around more first. Passing around the side of the small building, I came upon two women hanging damp laundry onto a line. They didn't see me approach, and I paused, examining the women in surprise. One of the women was young, perhaps barely eighteen, while the other was older. The older one had a young baby strapped to her hip with a blanket. They were chatting away as they hung laundry, and the unusual, obviously hand-sewn clothes drew my attention.

I was distracted from examining their clothes when I realised I could overhear what they were saying.

"Isn't it exciting, mother?" asked the younger woman. The enthusiasm in her voice made me adjust her age estimate down by a couple of years. "The King will be marching past in the next couple of days. And Loghain, the Hero of River Dane. And an army of Grey Wardens!"

"Don't let your father hear that tone when you talk about men," admonished the older woman. "Maker knows he'd tie you up in the barn and never let you out again." She smiled, taking the sting from her words.

"Oh, mother, the stories all mention how handsome King Cailan is. I just want to see him. See if it's true."

"And try to catch his eye, no doubt. Don't give me that look, girl, you can't fool me. I'd recommend you set your sights a bit lower. I suspect Queen Anora would have a swift and probably unpleasant response to anyone getting attention from the King. Don't underestimate that woman; she's ruthless." Both women giggled, but the younger one paused, suddenly looking nervous.

"Mother?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I was thinking about...going to Ostagar. Trying to get a job as a servant or cook or some such." Her mother dropped the trousers she was trying to hang, staring at the young woman in shock. "Wait, hear me out. Look, Maker knows we could use the silver. I am certain they could use extra hands, helping to prepare, and...isn't it our duty? To help the King, in any way we can, in a time of Blight? Da's letting Dylan go, to join the army as a recruit, he could accompany me there and make sure I'm safe, and..."

She trailed off under her mother's gaze. The brief silence left me time to think, to try to process the information I'd just heard. A King? A battle at...Ostagar? I knew I'd been dreaming about Dragon Age, but hadn't expected this level of detail, from a dream. These pieces weren't a part of the game! There had been no mention of this young woman, or this Dylan. Somehow my sleeping brain was providing details, and...back story? In a setting created by a game designer. _Weird_.

A sudden scream of terror brought me back to what was happening. Glancing around, I noticed the young woman staring out into the fields, hands pressed over her mouth, as she took a deep breath to scream again. I followed her gaze, and gasped. Rising up, out of the ground, were darkspawn. One of them had already attacked, its wicked sword being pulled out of the body of one of the men I had seen harvesting grain. Another was fighting a second man, who was using one of his farming tools - a scythe, I realised - as a weapon, parrying desperately. More creatures surged to the surface, spreading out and engaging the other men in the field. Seeing that they had the men outnumbered, several of the creatures turned towards the young woman's scream and headed toward the farmhouse.

Reality setting in, the mother grabbed her daughter, shaking her until she caught her eye, and then screamed at her. "Run! Keep running and don't look back. Go find the King. Tell him what happened. Go! Run, girl!"

With a shove from her mother, the girl finally turned, and started to run away. She stumbled as she ran, not even noticing me as she sprinted past, around the house and out of sight. I was still frozen in place, staring at the horror of - _oh God - Genlocks and Hurlocks_ up close, as the mother unhooked the baby from her waist, settling it in the laundry basket, and running over to tuck the basket into the shelter of the wall of the house where it would not easily be seen. Grabbing a large stick, she stepped out onto the path her daughter had run down, and I finally realised _she was preparing to fight. Darkspawn. Alone. With a stick._

Looking around desperately, I noticed a pitchfork leaning against the wall, and ran over to grab it. I realised I did not have enough time to run away - my hesitation had cost me that - and now had no choice but to fight. I grabbed the implement and ran up to the woman's side, heart pounding, feeling like I was going to vomit. _Keep it together, Sierra._ The woman didn't even acknowledge me, she was so focused on the approaching darkspawn. I frantically searched my mind for anything I knew about fighting, coming up with very little. I was briefly disgusted with myself for never watching martial arts movies, when the darkspawn arrived. No time left to think, I struck out at one with the pitchfork, scoring a hit on his face from my superior reach, and the creature bellowed in pain.

The darkspawn seemed to give me a wide berth after that, instead attempting to surround the unfortunate woman beside me trying to defend the road long enough for her daughter to run. She swung her stick with determination, obviously much better trained with a weapon than I, but with all the crowding around her, there was only so much she could do. I tried to help any way I could, hacking as a hurlock lifted his axe to cut her down, black blood squirting out through the openings my pitchfork made in his back, slashing the sword arm of another, just trying to keep her whole. She had blood running down her face, and some sort of wound in her side - not all of the blood on her homemade linen dress was hers, but enough of it was. More and more of the darkspawn were coming, and I realised they had finished off the men in the fields. _We are losing_.

I heard an odd noise behind me, and turned my head for one moment. The whole scene seemed to pause as a tall, gaunt, twisted figure, a parody of the hurlocks in front of me, unfolded from the ground. He wore strange, blood red, piecemeal armour, and an elaborate though shabby headdress. An Emissary, I realised, and my heart sank. It had been hopeless before, though I had refused to acknowledge it, but now I was forced to. We were through. The Emissary was chanting, and the hair on my arms stood on end, goosebumps rippling my flesh, as I felt the magic building. I turned back to yell at the woman to run, just in time to see her cut down by a darkspawn sword.

I screamed, a howl of rage and fear and anguish, and felt something change in the magic aura behind me. As tears flowed down my cheeks, a flash of white light expanded in a circle around me. The hurlocks and genlocks around me howled, then flew back from me, some of them landing on the ground, some slamming up against another surface, like the wall of the house, before sliding down to join their brethren in the dirt. None of them rose again. I turned to see the Emissary still alive, though down on the ground behind me. He looked...confused, would be the closest I could come to the emotion expressed on his corrupted face. Blood trickled out of one ear, though he didn't seem to notice it.

"What did you do?" It asked. I had forgotten that Emissaries can speak, and the gravelly voice was like nails on a chalkboard. It raised its arms, chanting, then gasping as nothing happened. "What are you?" It screamed now, raising its arms again, and finally released from my stunned paralysis, I stomped over to it and drove the pitchfork into its chest with all of my strength. Black ichor squirted out, again, and I realised my jeans were entirely ruined. Black blood dripped off the hem and was smeared across my chest, but nowhere did I see any of my own, red blood. I was, amazingly, unharmed.

The Emissary fell back, and I stood over it, panting, tears still streaming. Convinced it was dead, I finally straightened and surveyed the farm-hold. Nothing moved. The darkspawn were dead, the grass turning brown around them where they lay. There was no sound - no more children playing, no more talking, no more screaming. Everything was desolate silence. I screamed once, sinking down beside the body of the woman I'd fought to save_. Too late. Why did it have to be too late?_ I held her hand and sobbed, guilt washing over me. _Why hadn't I done something? What had even happened?_ It was clear the Emissary hadn't seen anything like it before, and obviously, neither had I.

A soft-pitched cry disturbed me from my mourning. _The baby!_ Another thing I'd forgotten. I hustled over to the spot where his mother had hidden the basket, and there, amidst the still damp laundry, I found a tiny, sweet, smiling face. I picked him up, gently - I had never held an infant before, had no idea whatsoever what to do with him. In foster care I'd had numerous younger foster-siblings, but the youngest had been toddlers. He smiled at me, reaching out and grabbing a handful of hair. I smiled back. I sat him back in the basket, feeling somewhat less desolate. It had been too late to save his mother, the rest of his family - but he, and perhaps his sister, would live.

The stink of blood was in my nose, the metallic taste in my mouth; I decided that the least these people deserved was to be buried with some respect. And perhaps I would burn the darkspawn corpses as well, before they tainted anything else. I went into the house, searching until I found some blankets, some water, and something I assumed was kerosene, and dragged my finds outside. Back inside for a moment, I found a chamber pot and did my business. Outside, I drank some water, and carefully dripped some into the baby's mouth as well; he giggled as it ran down his chin. I pulled his mother's body out from amidst the darkspawn, crossing her arms on her chest and closing her eyes before I covered her with a blanket.

Setting off into the field, I found the rest of the bodies, and slowly, laboriously, pulled them all to lie beside her, before covering them as well. The bodies of the children left me sobbing, again, tiny bodies laid between the larger ones of their family. The task was gruesome. Finally, surrounded by four children and five adults, I found a shovel and began to dig. I knew I wouldn't manage to make graves as deep as I wished, but something was better than nothing. I dug, and dug, eventually realising that I would be exhausted long before I had enough individual resting places. I decided that the family would probably forgive me for one communal grave. The baby was remarkably well behaved during this, though I had to scrounge through the family's kitchen to find something to feed him a couple of times. I dug through the evening and into the night, finally sitting down, planning to rest for a few minutes before continuing. I leaned back against the wall, briefly holding the sleeping baby, and fell fast asleep. I woke when the full rays of the sun were beating down on me, a tiny fist pulling on my hair. Startled, I realised that falling asleep in the open in an area that darkspawn frequented was horrendously stupid, but somehow we had survived, the tiny baby and I, despite that.

I fed him again, and found some cloth diapers to change him into. I'd have given anything for some safety pins - or some huggies. Disposable diapers were definitely a luxury I'd have paid for right then. Tucking him back into the basket of laundry, for want of a better option, I finished the hole I had been digging and gently placed the first body in it. As I was reaching for the second, I heard noise in the distance. Pausing just briefly to listen, I realised what I was hearing was horses. Lots of horses. And they were coming fast. I was quite sure that darkspawn didn't ride horses, and had no desire to try to explain to whoever was coming who I was. I tucked the baby, who was sleeping again, under the laundry, back into the space his mother had shoved him before the attack. Not knowing what else to do, I crept out into the field, finding a spot devoid of blood, that had yet to be harvested, and lay down, hoping the high grass would hide me.

In a couple of minutes, the cavalry finally arrived. I saw the young woman from the day before, and she was being escorted by a contingent of heavily armoured, armed men. She was crying as they came around the house, seeing as no one had answered her calls as they rode up. The armed men quickly cleared the house and farmyard, determining no darkspawn were about, and no family members still lived. And then the baby squalled, and the young woman dashed over to grab him out of the basket, hugging him desperately to her breast and sobbing. One of the men kindly took her aside so she would not have to stare at the bodies of her slain family, and she shuffled away.

I was close enough to hear snippets of the conversation, and determined that the man in the golden, shiny armour was indeed King Cailan. He was as good looking as advertised. That thought made me smile, just a little. He and a couple of his men looked around, trying to determine what had happened.

"There must have been someone else here. Look. All the bodies laid out neatly, and covered..."

"...and someone has changed that baby's nappy, or I'm Andraste's husband."

"But how could someone have survived? Maker, look at the number of them."

"...an Emissary. Have you ever seen simple farm folk survive an Emissary?"

"...seen an Emissary killed by a pitchfork?"

"Could a darkspawn have done it and run?"

"... eat the dead. They don't bury'em."

"Why in Andraste's name would anyone bury them?"

"...an elf? One of the Dalish?"

"...get a pyre going, and burn those darkspawn too."

I scrubbed a hand across my face, eyes gritty. _Stupid, stupid. People in Ferelden don't bury their dead._ How could I forget?

"...even oil, here, just waiting."

"..whoever did it. Strange they'd leave - the reward..."

"...maybe an Apostate? That might..."

Finally, they finished building a pyre and burned the dead. I watched as the flames burned into the night, as the men finally gathered up the young woman and her brother and headed out. As the last of the men rode off into the night, I stood, bowing my head by the pyre, tears streaking down my face.


	2. Accepting Reality

**Chapter Two: Accepting Reality**

And suddenly I awoke. I was somewhere dark, and quite confused. _What had happened after the pyre had burnt itself out?_ I wasn't comfortable, exactly, but I was lying on something semi-soft. I stayed still, trying to get my bearings, when I finally noticed the soft beeping, the discomfort in my hand. An IV. I was in a hospital, again. The rest of it came rushing back - the blackouts, the dreams, the bus bench I had collapsed onto. I could feel the tears trickle down my face. All of it - the horror, the fighting, the blood, the digging, that baby...all of it was a dream. I rolled over, careful of the IV, and sobbed. _What on earth was wrong with me?_ A nurse hustled in, noticing my movement. She laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder while I cried. Eventually she helped me sit up, checking my vitals and my IV, before promising to get the doctor.

"Wait. How...how long? How long was I unconscious?"

"Almost two days. You had us scared. I'm glad to see you back awake. Try to relax now, okay? But don't fall asleep just yet."

I took mental stock of my body. I didn't have a catheter this time. That was good. Just one IV, and it looked to only be running fluid. Also good. I didn't feel hazy, like I'd been given any meds. Another check on the good side. However, unlike previous blackouts, I hurt. Everywhere. My back was in agony, and I wondered how long I had been slumped on that bus bench before the paramedics came. My feet and my hands were the next items that bothered me. I sat up further, turning up the lights, to get a better look, and stopped, stunned.

Both of my palms were covered in blisters. My nails were chipped, and in some places torn off. They reminded me of the time I tried to take up gardening, with disastrous results. They looked...like I had been digging. A lot. I checked my feet next, and discovered they also were not in good shape. I had a few superficial splinters, several scrapes, and some blisters there as well. _What the hell?_

I was still sitting, motionless, staring, when the doctor arrived. I'd met this one before, and sighed with relief as I saw him come through the door - he was one of the nice ones. One of the few who didn't think I was an escaped psych patient. I still covered my feet and clasped my hands together so he wouldn't see what I had discovered.

"I'm glad you're awake, Sierra."

"Hey, doc. Come here often?"

He laughed, and pulled over a stool.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Two days, this time. It's my new record." He smiled, but I could see a shadow of worry in his face. "I had no idea panic attacks could be like this."

"They aren't panic attacks, Sierra. I don't know what they are, but I can tell you, they aren't that."

"How do you know?"

"Well...a lot of ways. I mean, you aren't awake at all, during those times. You don't respond to pain. No panic attack leaves someone unable to respond to pain. This time, we did an EEG while you were out. Tracing your brain waves? I thought maybe it was some weird form of seizure..."

I nodded in understanding. I'd heard of EEGs. I'd had one, once, earlier on in the blackout progression.

"Well, not only was it not a seizure...Sierra, I've never seen an EEG like this. It was completely flat. Even brain death leaves a particular pattern. You never, never, see one that's completely flat. I don't have the slightest idea what could cause that."

Now I was worried. _Well, more worried_. "Was I dead?"

"No, no. I mean, you were breathing, your heart was beating. There was no sign of anything wrong. Just...it was like no one was home." He paused. "Do you remember anything? I've always had the feeling you weren't telling me everything. I'm not going to tell anyone things you want kept confidential, but anything could help. Please."

I studied his face, thinking. Finally I decided to tell part of the truth, and see how he reacted.

"I...was dreaming."

"Dreaming?" I nodded. "About what?"

"Oh, you know. Dream stuff. Nightmares, really. You know, monsters and dragons. That sort of thing."

"That would certainly explain the screaming when you woke up, sometimes."

I nodded sheepishly.

"But...did you dream this time?" When I nodded again, he continued, "But...that's just not..." he stopped, obviously thinking. I waited.

"That's not possible! I had the EEG running all night, and most of today. If you'd been dreaming, I should have seen a REM sleep pattern. There wasn't." He looked up again. "There's something else, I can see it on your face. Will you tell me?"

I bit my lip, trying to decide. Maybe he'd lock me away in the psych ward.

_Maybe that's where I belong_. I finally nodded.

I turned my hands over, holding out my damaged palms, and pulling up the blankets so he could see my feet. He looked at them, his face flickering from confused, to surprised, to...concerned? Angry? I couldn't tell. He got up, assuring me he'd be right back, and stepped out. He came back momentarily with an armful of supplies, and shut the door in the face of a red-faced nurse. He settled back onto a stool, opening up supplies, and took to coating my hands and feet with a sick-smelling, greasy substance. It took a few seconds before the pain eased off, and I smiled gratefully. _Thank god for topical painkillers_. He then proceeded to wash out my wounds, pulling out splinters and scrubbing away dirt, all the while muttering curses under his breath about the incompetence that no one noticing my injuries. I got the impression it was aimed at himself as much as anyone else. Finally satisfied, he eyed some of the larger splinters he'd removed speculatively, before raising an eyebrow and meeting my gaze.

"Want to tell me where those all came from? Some of the ones in your feet look like pine needles. Where on earth would you get pine splinters?"

"That's just it. Nowhere. I live here. Downtown, even. I haven't left the city in months. There aren't any parks around, and even if there were...I don't make a habit of going there barefoot, in the middle of winter. It may not be snowing yet, but...I'm pretty sure if I'd been walking around barefoot, you'd be treating frostbite, not splinters. I don't do heavy labour. I don't garden. I have absolutely no idea how I could have blisters and splinters. I...am I going crazy?"

"If you're asking that, probably not." He smiled. "Crazy people are notorious for thinking they're sane. They don't question."

I laughed.

"But if you're asking that...you have some idea of how they got there, don't you. You're afraid I'll lock you up. Am I right?" I looked away, miserable, finally nodding. "I won't. I promise. I don't think you're crazy. Try me, okay?"

I let a few tears slip, before finally, finally describing my dream. I avoided calling them darkspawn, leaving it as 'monsters', and I left out the details of the upcoming battle and the name of the king I'd heard the women discussing, but otherwise I told him everything. The fight, the death, trying to bury all of those people. Barefoot, because my shoes were uncomfortable and I hadn't thought to reclaim them. I was openly sobbing by the end. He just sat, looking confused. I'm sure my expression echoed his, with the addition of the grief. He finally shook his head, trying to give me a reassuring smile, and took his leave. I cried a little while longer, and then lay in the bed, wondering when the straight jacket was coming.

Two more boring days later, they released me from hospital again. Nothing further had come of my tests, and my waking EEG was normal. The doctor told me he'd spent some time looking up causes of a flat EEG, or dreaming causing injuries, but found nothing. I could tell he was reluctant to let me go, but there was nothing demonstrably wrong with me. Someone sick needed that bed. So I called a cab and went home. I convinced the cabby to stop for groceries on the way - everything I'd bought had gone missing, somehow - and I finally arrived home four days after leaving 'just for an hour'. _What a pain._

Within a few more days my hands and feet had largely healed. I spent some time reading through the Dragon Age wiki, trying to find out if the events I'd been part of were in the game and I'd just forgotten, but found nothing. I tried searching on my own to see if anyone else described out-of-body experiences that were similar, or ended up on Thedas...all I found were communities of fan fiction writers. _Scratch that. Not helping._ Wondering when I would black out again, I tried to ensure that I was wearing comfortable boots, and two pairs of socks, and heavy clothing at all times, in case somehow it helped the next time I was pulled to Thedas. _So sue me. Blisters and splinters hurt_.

That expanded to carrying items in my pockets that I thought would be useful if I ended up stuck there again. Safety pins - I thought about that baby, hoping against hope he was safe. Pencils. Chalk. A compass. A Zippo lighter, full of lighter fluid, wrapped in a Ziploc bag. String. A tiny compact with a mirror. A comb. A print-out of a map of Thedas, from the wiki, also in a bag. A small kinetic powered flashlight, and extra bulbs. A spare pair of panties. I briefly considered buying a taser, but how would I recharge it? I tucked a Swiss army knife into my pants instead. I ordered a kit for purifying water online - something to do with iodine. I took a cab to a travel clinic, told them I was going to Africa, and got shots for everything I could think of, including updating my tetanus. I put a waterproof mattress cover on my bed.

The entire time, I felt like an ass for doing all of it. Planning it, as though I could bring items with me when I was dreaming. I did it anyway. I had nothing to lose. I spent the rest of the time playing the game. _It couldn't hurt to remember the details just a little bit better..._

The next dizzy spell hit me at home. I was thankful. I had just enough time to flop onto my bed, and hope for a couple of seconds that my stuff would come with me. And then the blackness swallowed me.

When I became aware again, I was in the woods. Somewhere. There was dim light, but I wasn't sure if it was dawn or dusk. I had no idea which way I was facing, and no way to identify which woods I was in. I listened carefully, hearing only the soft noises of birds and other small animals, and wind through the trees. I did a quick personal inventory, shouting for joy when I found my feet in heavy boots, my own clothes, and all the treasures in my pockets. My body had changed, like it had the last time, but somehow my dream clothes still fit my vastly different shape. I thought about that for a few minutes, but then shrugged, recognising that I was going to drive myself mad if I thought about it too hard. I pulled out the tiny compact, wondering what my face looked like in this new body. I looked similar, I decided, though not quite the same as I looked at home. This was almost..._like a prettier version of me._ My nose was a bit smaller, my cheekbones a bit higher, my eyes a bit greener. I liked it, though it felt weird to think of myself as pretty. My hair was about the same, dark brown, long, and bone straight. Suddenly curious, I put a hand up to my own ear. Round. _I'm not an elf, clearly. Huh._ I put the compact away.

I noticed that it was getting lighter, so decided it must be dawn. As the sun rose, I realised that it wasn't as bright as it should have been, due to a thick layer of mist as far as I could see. The air smelled damp, with a slight hint of rot. I decided to assume I was in the Korcari Wilds. I recalled someone - was it Daveth? Or maybe it was Maric, in the books - talking about how the mist never dissipated in the Korcari Wilds. Using the compass in my pocket, I turned to face north and headed in that direction. My hair was loose, so I tied it back with the string in my pockets, and pulled out a piece of chalk. As I walked, I marked a tree with chalk every so often, just in case the compass somehow didn't work. I found myself a sturdy walking stick, and felt very slightly better. Not that I had a solid idea of where I was going, but doing something was better than doing nothing. I noted, again with some delight, that this body was much better designed for travel than was my own. I was able to keep a brisk pace, even with having to scramble through the woods at times, without wearing myself out too much. As I walked, I tried looking for familiar landmarks from the Korcari Wilds in the game, but wasn't able to fully convince myself of anything. _Pixels don't exactly give you the true picture of a place_. So I walked. And hoped, fervently, not to run into any darkspawn. Or wolves. Or anything else that wanted to eat me.

I looked for water as I walked, but found nothing I would even consider trying to drink; it was all muddy puddles and greenish-tinged muck. I supposed it wasn't that bad a thing - going to the bathroom in the woods wasn't something I was finding enjoyable. Leaves are far inferior to toilet paper, and I had taken to drip-drying whenever possible. _Ick._

Eventually I stumbled on a clearing, obviously the scene of a recent battle. The stench was vile, and as I scanned the area I found several darkspawn corpses, left where they'd been killed. Many of them had obvious knife or sword wounds, a few with arrows protruding. I scavenged a sword, which was heavier than it looked, but somehow I felt better for being armed. Not that I had any idea how to swing a sword. I recalled hearing somewhere that you shouldn't carry a gun unless you were quite proficient in how to use it, lest it be used against you. I hoped that the same could not be said for a sword. I carried on, more convinced than ever that this was the Korcari Wilds. Unless this was much later in the Blight than I hoped, it should be the only place with darkspawn, and I thought I knew who might have been tromping through these woods killing them off with swords not too long ago, too.

_Oh God, Ostagar_. It all came rushing back, and suddenly I realised I needed to bloody well hurry. If I was going to assume that this was real, and not a dream, and I wanted to change the outcome in some way, I needed to get to Ostagar before the battle, and hope to hell I could find some way to convince Duncan, or Cailan, or someone, to change the battle plan before everyone was, well, dead. Even if it was a dream, a happier ending would perhaps decrease the chances of me waking up screaming. _Right. Walk faster, Sierra._

I was able to advance more quickly, finding that I could follow a trail of darkspawn corpses. The smell was so rank, much worse than normal decay, that I had no trouble finding the site of the next skirmish, and the next. I was following the trail the wardens had taken through the Wilds. I hoped it would lead me to Ostagar, not to Flemeth. _Ugh, Flemeth_. I shook my head and kept walking. Even Flemeth would be better than stumbling blind - perhaps I could convince her to help. I thought about that for a moment. _Or perhaps not._

I was headed uphill, as well as north, and that seemed right, from what I could remember. I actually found the place where the group of warden recruits would have come across a dying soldier, recognising it by the number of mangled, obviously human remains. Feeling slightly sick, I continued north, knowing I had to be close to Ostagar. I finally glimpsed the wall of pikes I recalled passing through in the game, and knew I had found my destination.

Ostagar was much larger than it appeared in game. I supposed that shouldn't have been a surprise. _How much walking around, just to get from one tent to the next, do you really want to do in a computer game?_ The ruin was enormous, and I found myself wondering exactly how many men had camped here.

The gate wasn't guarded. That was the first thing that worried me. I was quite sure that, prior to the battle, there were guards. _Not good._

I crept through the gate, looking around warily. There were a few people around, but none of them looked like soldiers. Most were rushing around, and none seemed to notice me. I decided to approach the first elf I found, hoping that they'd be less likely to question my clothes, more likely to help. I felt guilty for that, but knew that any humans I ran into were likely to demand that I tell them who I was, and how I'd gotten there, whereas an elven servant might just let it pass since I was a human. I wandered through the camp, gawking at the ruins. I'd never really travelled far from home, never seen ancient ruins, and the scale of the buildings that once must have stood here was staggering.

I finally managed to identify an elf, rushing through the camp. She was a tiny thing, a good 6 inches shorter than I (not that I was completely sure how tall this body was), with dark hair. I tried not to stare at her delicate, pointed ears - I was prepared for them, I had thought, but the reality was a bit more than I expected. I thought they were quite beautiful, actually, but dragged my gaze off them to look the nervous young woman in the eye.

"Excuse me. Could you answer a question for me, please?"

She jumped, quickly averting her eyes, her fair skin blushing slightly. She stared briefly at my sword, then looked away. She nodded, but did not answer.

"Where is the army? The Grey Wardens?"

She looked up in surprise, then, but glanced away again quickly. "They've gone to fight, my lady."

I swore under my breath. "How long ago did they march?"

The confused expression became more noticeable, but she answered me. "Two hours ago. Or so. My lady." She dared to look in my eyes for a moment. "Is my lady...feeling quite alright?"

"Sierra. Please...just call me Sierra. I am...no. Not alright, really. Look. I need to find the army. I need to catch up to the King. I need a few supplies, first. Can you help me? Please? It's very important."

"What do you need, my lady?" I grimaced. "Beg pardon. Sierra." I smiled.

"I need a waterskin. Some food. Non-perishable. Maybe some rope, and a dagger. And something to carry it in. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, my...Sierra. Right away." I tried to look reassuring. She smiled, just slightly, and led me towards a large tent, standing empty. She grabbed a large waterskin, checking to see if I wanted it full - I nodded, and she slipped it into a cloth bag. She picked up a handful of paper-wrapped parcels, food I assumed, and added them as well. I had found a weapon rack on the back wall, and chose myself a wickedly sharp dagger in a sheath. I grabbed some leather straps, and tied the sheath to my thigh. Somehow, I suddenly felt very Lara Croft. I almost giggled out loud, stifling it before the poor woman helping me had to wonder further about my sanity. I turned, just as she was stuffing a length of rope into the pack.

"My...Sierra. I don't mean to be impertinent, but...are you going to pay for these things?" I blinked, not even thinking that this was likely the quartermaster's tent, and of course, the supplies weren't free. _Stupid._ I had nothing to pay with, and if I took these things, even if by force, I knew this poor woman would think she would lose her job, if not worse. Of course, I knew the quartermaster wasn't going to be back, but..._oh, inspiration._

"I'm a Grey Warden. Can you add up the total, please, and I'll just sign for it on Duncan's bill?" She nodded, obviously relieved. I scrawled my name, with a quill of all things, getting ink all over my sleeve. I tried to pretend I hadn't noticed. I'm sure I failed. I took the pack from her, slinging it inexpertly across my shoulder.

"Alright..." I looked at this woman, and remembered coming back to Ostagar, after the battle, in the downloadable content in the game. I knew she was going to die, along with anyone else left behind. "Listen to me. I'm a Grey Warden. I want you to...talk to the other people remaining here in camp. Anyone who will listen. I want you to tell them to grab as much food as they can carry, and leave. Now. Head north, but avoid Redcliffe and Denerim. Don't stop until you're well north of Lothering. Leave as soon as you can, and don't look back. Anyone who stays here will die. Do you understand? You must take what you can, and go." Her eyes got larger and larger as I spoke, panic appearing on her face. I put my hands on her shoulders, trying to look reassuring. I wished I'd taken drama in school.

"You've got a bit of time." _I hope._ "But don't wait too long. Tell whomever you can, then go. Promise me." She finally met my eyes full on, examining my expression as though trying to see right through me. I knew I was sincere; I hoped she saw it as well. She finally nodded. I patted her shoulder, then took my leave in the direction that she indicated the army had travelled.

I hurried through the rest of the ruins as fast as I could, frantically thinking. Did I go after Alistair, or the rest of the army? If the battle was already underway, a field of darkspawn was perhaps not the place for me to be. But if I went to the tower of Ishal, there were no guarantees that Flemeth would save me along with Alistair and whoever the new recruit was. Thinking about Flemeth decided me. Alistair would be safe; I'd take my chances trying to catch Duncan and Cailan. Maybe I could change the outcome of the battle. Maybe...it wasn't too late.

_Please, let it not be too late._


	3. Changing History

**Chapter Three: Changing History**

I found the path the army had followed onto the field around Ostagar. Loghain's army had turned off, to head up to the cliff; that I knew. Instead, I went down. As I walked, I started to hear a faint noise. At first I couldn't identify it, but after a bit, as it grew louder, I realised what it was. Screaming. The sound of metal clashing on metal. Swords hitting shields. Oh God, the battle had started. _What on earth am I doing down here? I have no place in a battle. I barely know how to hold the sword I am carrying. What was I thinking?_

Wait. _What on earth?_ _I'm not on Earth anymore. I guess, on Thedas, I just don't have much of a self-preservation instinct. _ I kept moving, picking up my pace.

The sound of battle grew to a deafening roar as I approached the rear of the army. I swore as I realised that the army had already become disorganised, and instead of a united front, darkspawn squared off against individuals and small groups, fighting back-to-back, desperate. I'd read a forum that claimed that the reason Loghain left the King to die was that he realised that he couldn't be saved - that due to poor tactics, Cailan had left him no choice. I was indignant, when I read that, completely unwilling to admit that Loghain might be anything other than the evil bastard I thought he was. For the first time, I wondered if it might be true. I wasn't exactly a military strategist, but I was quite sure that the plan was to have the darkspawn all together, facing a united line of Fereldens, not this intermingled, chaotic swirl of violence.

_Well, crap. The best laid plans, and all that, right?_ I checked that the beacon on the tower of Ishal wasn't yet lit - _thank God, that means Duncan isn't dead yet, at least in theory_. I secured my pack, hoisted that heavy damn sword, and started trying to weave through the crowd. It was getting dark, and I couldn't decide if that was an advantage or a curse. I took the opportunity to stab darkspawn in the back as I went, but didn't slow to engage with any of them. Somehow, all the darkspawn I came across were miraculously...busy. _I'll have to thank my guardian angel later_.

I just kept going, squeezing myself between groups of men and darkspawn. I assumed the darkspawn didn't think of me as a threat, and in the heat of battle, there were more important things to do than spend precious time slaughtering innocents. _Or idiots. Whichever label worked_. Apparently the men didn't see me as a threat either, frequently exclaiming in surprise when I scored a hit on a darkspawn about to cut off their head, or whatever. _I probably am the only woman in this battle, I guess that shouldn't be a shock._

As I pushed forward, the ratio of men to darkspawn began to drop. Things were getting more dangerous for a lone woman weaving through the battle. _Please don't die, please don't die_...I had arrived, I could tell. I was near or at the front lines, and the people fighting desperately on either side of me were Grey Wardens, I was sure of it. These were by far the deadliest fighters I had seen so far, blocking and parrying, cutting down darkspawn with breathtaking grace. I was briefly distracted by the deadly beauty of the dance, but still the darkspawn seemed to ignore me. And then, I heard the roar. _Oh God, an ogre, what was I thinking? There are fucking ogres up here_.

Trying to look small and unthreatening, I squeezed further onward. I hadn't seen the King yet, in his golden armour, but if there were ogres ahead, I knew that's where he and Duncan would be. I caught sight of a flash of gold, peeking out from around a small knot of whirling death, and arrived just in time to see Cailan lifted, squeezed, by the largest, most gruesome monster I could imagine. _The game sort of glossed over this a bit!_ Cailan was still alive, weakly struggling, and I could feel hostile magic in the swarm of darkspawn behind that thing. The air fairly crackled with it, just like at the farm. _Lovely. Dozens of Emissaries._ I felt, more than saw, the beacon atop the tower of Ishal light, and knew I was out of time.

I was desperate, though not nearly stupid enough to rush an ogre, when I caught sight of someone who could be no one else than Duncan, squaring off with what must have been a hurlock alpha. I screamed, fear and horror welling up in me…

_I'm too late, why am I always too late?_

…and felt something...weird. I looked between Duncan and Cailan and saw both men enveloped in an ethereal white light, just as the ogre squeezed Cailan one last time and threw him to the ground. All around me, Grey Wardens were dying. I was covered in blood, none of it mine, and screaming like I would never stop, and I felt the ground shake, wondering what had exploded nearby. But I realised that while it had messed with everyone's balance, only the darkspawn seemed to be truly troubled by it. It dawned on me: there must be a mage somewhere nearby. A friendly one. A wave of energy passed through the lines of darkspawn near me, their bodies slamming to the ground, blood bursting into the air in a red mist. And then I was falling, and I couldn't catch myself, and _oh God, I'm going to die_. The last thing I saw, before I blacked out, was Duncan crawling over to Cailan's still form, collapsing at his side. But I thought, just before the darkness took me, that I could see his chest rise and fall.

_Still breathing_.

I woke, actually expecting to be in my own bed at home. It seemed such a natural transition - black out in one world, wake in another. I kept my eyes closed, thinking to luxuriate in a soft bed for a few more minutes, wondering if I'd have bruises or cuts as fallout from the insane day I had spent in Ferelden. I certainly had a hell of a headache. But I must have been sleeping in a weird position, or something, because my back was sore, and something hard was poking my hip, and _what sort of food did I leave rotting in the kitchen to smell like that?_ I opened my eyes and saw...blue sky. I turned my head and groaned - there was an ogre corpse practically on top of me. The smell started to make sense.

Shakily, I sat up, my head clearing as the details of the battle returned. I filed away the fact that, apparently, I could black out here without returning home, deciding to think about it later. Somewhere that smelled better. Looking around, I saw that I was surrounded by dozens upon dozens of corpses. Most of them were darkspawn, but there were many people as well, and I just couldn't look at them, or I'd start screaming again. Nothing on the field was moving. There weren't even birds, and I figured that probably, even vultures were too smart to eat anything coming from this tainted cesspool. _Wait. Do they have vultures in Ferelden?_

I stood, my legs unsteady, but finally able to get the vantage point I needed. The last time I saw Duncan and Cailan was...over _there_. I headed in the appropriate direction, eyes skirting around the mangled remains I was stepping over, until I found them. Duncan had made it to Cailan's side, sword still in hand. They were both bloody, and I stifled my horror to lean down and touch Duncan's face. It was warm, and he twitched with the slight contact. I screamed, clapping my hand over my mouth a second later, embarrassed. _The living aren't supposed to be what's freaking you out right now. Keep it together, Sierra._ Stepping around Duncan, I bent over to do the same for Cailan. I had to kneel to get the right leverage to shove his dented helm up to expose skin, but his breath briefly misted the metal surface, and I smiled. I had just witnessed that the events of the game could be changed.

My wandering eyes noted a mangled piece of human flesh, and my momentary elation faded. It hadn't changed enough, apparently. These two may have been saved, somehow...but the fact that no one had checked for survivors meant there still wasn't anyone left standing at the end of the battle. I slumped down, a sob welling in my throat, when I heard a quiet groan. Duncan stirred, and I repressed the sob to crawl over and kneel beside him. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused for a few moments, and then with a grunt, he rolled over. Right into my lap. I swore, his armour digging into my thigh, but managed to catch myself before I fell back. His eyes snapped to my face, finally clear, but clearly confused. I extricated my leg from under him, knelt beside him with another pained oath, and offered him my hand. I pulled him up to sit, watching as he turned his head to see the rest of the battlefield. His gaze settled on Cailan, and I hurried to reassure him.

"He lives, Duncan. I don't know how badly he is injured - well, frankly, I don't know how badly you are injured, either, but he's still breathing." Duncan looked back at me, eyebrows pressing together.

"You have me at a disadvantage, my lady. Might I know your name? And how I, or rather, we, survived...this?"

"Sierra. My name is Sierra. And I have absolutely no idea, to be honest. I was looking for you, but I got here too late, and then I blacked out."

"Yet somehow, I still live, as does the King. Unless there is someone else around I should thank, you appear to be the one to be grateful to."

"Um. Well. You're welcome, I suppose." I smiled, but those eyebrows remained furrowed, his gaze shifting to take in my jeans, boots, and coat, and my smile faltered.

"I'm quite certain I would have remembered you, had we met. May I ask how you know my name?"

"I, uh. Well." _Sonofa_...I had tried, but never did manage to come up with a convincing explanation for my presence here. "That's a bit of a long story. I think we should probably have that discussion somewhere safer. And preferably cleaner. And perhaps once we know how badly you and Ca...the King are injured. Yes?"

His words said "Fair enough," though his eyes told me he wasn't fooled for a minute. _Well, damn. Wish I'd been born more creative._ I nodded, in silent recognition that we were going to have a very pointed discussion, once we were safe.

"So," I asked, "uh...are you injured?" Duncan looked to be doing the same internal survey I had done upon waking.

"I think I may...have a broken leg. And I recall being hit by an axe, but I don't appear to have a hole in my chest, so perhaps I dreamed that."

"Oh, God, really? Wow, you are so calm. I'd be screaming, I'm sure I would." I babbled as I looked down at his leg, trying to distract myself from what I suddenly knew I'd see when I lifted the leg of his armour/pant things, and..._yeah, that's gross. _There was bone sticking out, just above the ankle. My face paled, and I wondered briefly if I was going to puke. I felt a hand on my elbow, steadying me, and looked up to see Duncan studying my face. Again. "Sorry. I'm not great with, you know. Blood. And stuff." I closed my eyes, willing myself to pull it together.

"So...I'm not sure that I'm going to be able to carry you out of here. Especially if Ca...the King is also injured. I'm not sure what to do. Have you got any ideas?" _Stop trying to call him Cailan, dumbass._ _He's a king, here. You use a title._

"I think I've got a poultice around here somewhere." Duncan patted his belt, reaching in to pull out a piece of linen cloth, wrapped around a small vial of something red. He handed it to me, and I took it, eyes widening in dismay. _Pressing a hotkey for a health poultice did not prepare me for...this._

"I...right, sorry, I've never used one of these before. You're going to have to talk me through this."

Duncan's gaze scrutinised me again, and I fought not to blush again, to make him even more suspicious. He guided me through resetting the bone, basically by grabbing his foot and pulling as hard as I could - _yuck, that crunch is gross and wow, can that man scream_ - and then to applying a few drops of the liquid into the wound directly and the rest onto the cloth, which then was tied tightly around his leg. I watched in amazement as the skin knit together and the pain written on his face eased. He waited a few minutes, then gingerly moved the leg. It was...fixed. Not for the first time, I thought that magic is amazing. I wish we had some of it in my world.

I helped Duncan stand, still in awe that he could go from bone sticking out to walking normally in five minutes. Well, _mostly_ normally. He definitely had a limp, but he was moving. Together we leaned over Cailan. Duncan was able to pry his helmet off, and we couldn't see any sort of head injury. As he undid the breastplate, however, it was obvious that the ogre hadn't merely squeezed the man. He had crushed him, right through his plate armour. He had an indent in his chest where the armour had squished him, and on the opposite side, the skin had split, a rib poking out. Again I fought not to vomit, but suddenly the man began to scream, and it took everything both Duncan and I had to hold him down, and the urge passed. Duncan swiftly reached behind Cailan's belt, pulling out another poultice, repeating the steps I had taken with his. He gave me a look, which I interpreted to mean that I was to hold him still, and Duncan pressed on the broken rib until it snapped back into place. Cailan screamed again, thrashing, and I had to lie across him, using my entire body weight to hold down his arms. Duncan poured in the solution, and then spread a larger poultice across his entire chest. He moaned, as the bandage was pulled tight, and then, thankfully, passed out.

His breathing had eased, and he now looked like he was merely sleeping. In the middle of a battlefield full of corpses. _Ick_. Reassured, Duncan took a few moments to survey the rest of the field. Still nothing moved around us, the air unnaturally still and quiet. His eyes lit on the ogre that had nearly killed Cailan, and he walked over to remove Cailan's sword from the thing's hide. _Ew_. I realised I had dropped my own scavenged blade, and spent a few minutes assessing the weapons within sight. I looked to Duncan for permission, and finally picked up a lighter, sharper looking sword that was still held by a nearby human hand. I shuddered as I accidentally bumped the cold, clammy flesh. I looked up, to find Duncan standing near where I'd been when I blacked out during the battle, looking around. The confusion on his face intensified as he studied the corpses around him, and he headed towards where I remembered the magic aura coming from. I followed behind him, studying his face instead of the grisly scene at my feet. He didn't say anything, but I caught him looking at me quizzically a few times when he thought I wasn't watching.

Cailan finally stirred again, and Duncan rushed back over to him.

"Your Majesty. Can you hear me?" Cailan seemed to be struggling to sit up, but Duncan held him down without difficulty. "Don't move. I don't know what other injuries you might have sustained."

"Duncan?"

"Yes, Sire. Relax, you're safe for now. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been chewed up and spat out by an ogre, actually." I couldn't help it. I giggled. The game didn't really prepare me for Cailan to have a sense of humour. A wry grin spread across Cailan's face, and he opened one eye, cautiously, to peer at me. "Off with her head. No one laughs at me." He winked, and even Duncan chuckled.

"I think I'd like to recommend you not execute the person who saved us. At least until we have a chance to question her properly. Sire." Cailan appeared to think about this for a moment, and then nodded, his grin widening.

"Excellent suggestion. What's it to be? The rack?"

"I'm sure your Majesty can come up with all sorts of torture later. For now, I'm going to assume that if you're able to joke about things, you mustn't be feeling too badly. Would you like to sit up?"

It took both Duncan and I hauling, but eventually Cailan was seated. His armour though - it was a mess, dented, torn, and bent. _Good thing I know an armourer in Denerim who can fix that_. The thought staggered me for a minute. For a moment, I had almost forgotten that to me, this was just a game. I'd never actually met Wade in person. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the thoughts. _Think later, Sierra._

Introductions were made between myself and Cailan. I had absolutely no idea what to say, so I just murmured 'Your Majesty' and bowed my head. Duncan raised an eyebrow, but neither man appeared offended, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Cailan coughed, rubbing his filthy face with a filthier sleeve.

"Andraste's ass, I'm thirsty."

"Oh! I didn't think. Sorry, that was stupid." I dropped the bag from my shoulder, fishing through to grab the large water skin inside. I passed it to Cailan, who drank, then handed it off to Duncan, who in turn gave it back to me. I drank as well, the water warm but at least moist, and put the skin away again. Duncan took the opportunity to peer into my bag as well, noting the rations, and the rope. He nodded, and I re-shouldered the bag.

"I don't think it is safe to assume we are out of danger here, your Majesty," Duncan said. "I think we should probably move as far as we are able today, put as much ground between us and Ostagar as possible. Do you have any idea where you'd like to go initially?"

I cleared my throat before Cailan could respond, and Duncan raised an eyebrow. "You have a suggestion?" I nodded, blushing. _Damn my pasty skin_.

"I suspect we need to get some things that his Majesty left at the camp in Ostagar, first," Cailan started, but then reluctantly nodded, "but then I would suggest we head towards Lothering. We can probably meet up with Alistair and ..." I trailed off, realising I had no way to know which origin story this Warden came from, never mind his - her? - name. "...the new recruit? In Lothering."

Duncan stared at me with narrowed eyes. Of course. He didn't know they lived, and had no way of knowing where they would be if they did. I must have sounded like a lunatic in that moment. _When we finally have time to have this conversation, I'm going to need all my wits with me for them not to dismiss me as completely insane_. I sighed.

"I'm sorry. What's the new Warden's name, again?" I asked.

"Aedan." Both Cailan and Duncan replied at once. It was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

"Aedan...Cousland?" They both nodded, and I struggled to keep my expression calm. For how often I played the human noble origin, this...felt like finding out I had a long lost brother, or something. And somehow, I was relieved that it was a man. No competition for..._Inappropriate, Sierra_. "Right. Alistair and Aedan survived and are currently somewhere in the Korcari Wilds. They will eventually head to Lothering. I know it's asking a lot, but please, trust me. It's going to be the easiest place to meet up with them."

Duncan gazed into my eyes for an agonising minute, silent. Cailan seemed content to go along with whatever Duncan decided. Finally, Duncan nodded.

"Lothering makes sense, as it's the nearest settlement of any size anyway, Your Majesty. But, Lady Sierra, you are going to tell me how you know this. And..." he pointed vaguely at the battlefield around us, "what happened here. Tonight, wherever we camp." I nodded. It wasn't a question.

We scavenged a not too badly damaged set of chain armour off a nearby corpse - well, Duncan and Cailan did, while I covered my eyes trying not to retch - and left Cailan's fancy plate behind in the chest at Ostagar. It would attract too much attention, too easily identify Cailan to anyone who thought to get themselves a ransom. Duncan also managed to convince Cailan that he needed to change his appearance, before I seconded the point, and he agreed, reluctantly, to allow his hair to be cut. I used the dagger strapped to my thigh, and while it wasn't anywhere near as fashionable as he might have liked, it was serviceably shaggy and changed his appearance drastically. He looked like Alistair, I realised, and felt my stupid heart skip a beat. _Stop thinking about Alistair like that! _ I convinced Duncan to cut his hair as well, and my dagger worked well enough for that, too. Once Duncan shaved, I doubted anyone who didn't know them well would recognise either of them from a distance. I mentioned shaving, and Duncan gave an exaggerated sigh.

As I hoped, Cailan still had a key to his own chest (he'd given someone the spare, not the original, for safekeeping) and was able to recover the documents that I remember learning about from the 'return to Ostagar' downloadable content. He was still giving me weird looks for knowing he needed to do it.

The camp had obviously been overrun, and almost everything had been damaged or tainted. We didn't salvage any more food or equipment except what I already carried. I was happy to notice there were far fewer corpses than there had been people when I came through the camp the evening before, though I did realise that most of the corpses I could see were human. No pointed ears to be seen anywhere. I guessed the human servants hadn't been keen to listen to the poor elf who helped me. I sighed. Duncan commented on the low number of bodies as well, and I mentioned that I had told a servant to take as many people as she could and leave. Duncan's eyes narrowed again as he looked at me, but I just shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

Duncan took the lead as we left Ostagar, Cailan trailing a little behind. I tried to follow him, but he seemed determined to walk beside me, not in front. Duncan's pace was a little too aggressive for much talking, and I mentally thanked whatever magic that had given me this body instead of my own - I was able to keep up, if it did leave me a bit breathless. We nibbled on the rations in my pack as we walked, and after I had handed them out Duncan insisted he carry it for a while to give my shoulder a rest. As the only one of us who hadn't really been injured, I objected, but he just picked it up and strode off, leaving me either to allow it or chase him to get it back. I rolled my eyes, and Cailan laughed.

"Never underestimate the stubbornness of a Grey Warden," he whispered, just loud enough to ensure Duncan heard him. I snickered.

Bathroom stops became suddenly that much worse than just peeing in the woods. Now I had two impatient men waiting for me, so drip-drying was no longer an option. At least so far none of the leaves I'd scavenged had been poison ivy or anything. I hoped.

We stopped well before dark, making camp by a small stream, in a valley between two small hills. Duncan left me with Cailan to collect wood and try to build a small fire, while he went to go 'scouting'. At first, Cailan tried to chat, but I was incredibly...awkward. I didn't want to get into details of my identity and origin, as it were, until Duncan was back, and I truly had no idea how to address a King when making small talk. I remembered not to call him by name, just barely, but that left me throwing far too many 'your majesties' into the conversation. He probably thought I was simple-minded, if not deranged_. I'm building a campfire in a computer game world. Of course I'm deranged._

I finally grabbed a small pile of twigs and dry grass, offering to light the fire if he would find some larger pieces of wood.

"Oh good. I hoped you would know how. It's embarrassing, but I've never camped outside before without an army of servants to do the whole 'build a fire' thing. I doubt I can be much help, really."

He wandered a little way off, and I built a teepee of twigs around the pile of grass, inside a larger ring of stones, as per my vague recollection from the school camping trip we took in about eighth grade. I checked to ensure he wasn't looking, then slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out the Zippo lighter I had hidden there. Striking it, I lit the grass, and after a few moments of hoping, the kindling lit. I breathed a sigh of relief and put away the plastic-wrapped lighter. I took one small water purification tablet out of my pocket, surreptitiously adding it to the water skin, before refilling the skin from the stream. When Cailan returned, we slowly added sticks to the fire until we had a small blaze. Cailan looked impressed. I blushed. I found a rock to lean back against, pulling my knees up to my chest and letting my head fall back, closing my eyes, feigning fatigue to avoid more awkward chit chat. Cailan lounged on his side on the opposite side of the fire, looking sad and thoughtful, in addition to bone tired. He fell silent and let me be. _Thank God for small mercies. _

Duncan returned after a bit, declaring us safe from darkspawn. He was carrying a small, furry, dead animal. Rabbit, I discovered. I wondered if I would gag, wistfully thinking about sterile looking, plastic wrapped meats at the supermarket at home. Duncan methodically skinned and gutted the creature and fabricated a makeshift spit, setting it to roast over the fire. If he was surprised that between us, we had managed to light a fire, he didn't say it. He crouched, more than sat, tensed to spring, silently staring into the fire for a few minutes. The silence seemed almost companionable, but I knew it couldn't last. Duncan had Questions - I could practically hear the capital Q. I had decided that, when he asked, I would just spill the entire story, in whatever way I could think of to make it make sense, and see what happened. Duncan finally cleared his throat.

"So, my Lady. I'm quite sure we have never met, yet you seem to know me, and I'm certain there were no women in the army or with the Grey Wardens. You're not a servant; by attitude, you act like a noble, but you know how to start a fire, and you don't know how to use a health poultice. You show up on the battlefield, apparently looking for me, in the middle of a battle that none of the three of us should have survived. You are quite the mystery. Care to start with who you are and where you came from?"

"I...well. That's sort of a big question. First off, I'm not a lady, so you can stop calling me that. I'm just Sierra. I'm not from here. From Thedas, I mean." Cailan looked like he was about to interrupt, but Duncan raised a hand and he stopped. "In fact, compared to here, I'm not exactly sure where I come from. I know, that's weird. I..." I trailed off, thinking. "Somehow, I came here by magic, I guess. I wasn't planning it, but something, somehow, brought me here. I woke up yesterday in the middle of the Korcari Wilds.

"Where I come from is a really different sort of place. And my people have, well, it would seem like magic, I'm sure, but it isn't quite. There's no magic in my world, just science. But regardless of how it works, my people have a way of seeing other places. Like Thedas. You just look through a special window, and can see what's happening in other worlds. We don't have the ability to travel to them, but we can watch. We can interact, a little bit. It's sort of like...a sending stone? In a limited way, we can even see into the future of the places that we watch.

"So over the past while, I've been watching Thedas. It's very different than where I come from, so it's interesting. As such, I've been able to watch some of the events leading up to the ending of the Blight. I can't see everything, and the timing of events is hazy at best, but...it means that, in a limited way, I know what's going to happen in the next year or two. Though apparently what I know can be changed, so I'm afraid of what that means overall.

"I had a little bit of warning I was coming here, though I didn't expect it to be like this. I've been having these episodes. I get dizzy, I pass out, and when I wake, I'm in Thedas. I stay here for a while, and then eventually wake up again, at home. I thought they were dreams, at first. The doc...healers, at home, haven't been able to figure out what is happening. But then, a few days ago, I woke at a farm, and had to watch darkspawn slaughter an entire family. I tried to help, but...but...I don't know how to fight, it's not something I do at home, and I wasn't able to save them. Except for the baby. When it was over, I tried to bury the people - that's what we do with the dead, at home - but then I heard horses, and I hid...and when I woke, I was back at home but covered in splinters and cuts and bruises. Dreams just don't do that!" I was babbling, by this point, the horror of that day at the farm still fresh, tears streaming down my face. I sniffled and wiped my face angrily on my sleeve, trying to hold it together, trying not to sound insane, but the tears just kept coming. _Maybe I am insane. Don't forget, that's entirely possible._

"After that, I figured I might end up here again. When I realised I was in the Korcari Wilds, I headed to Ostagar, since that was the only place I knew how to find. I had no idea if it was before or after the battle. When I saw all the darkspawn corpses in the Wilds, I knew that the Grey Warden recruits had been... " Duncan gave me a startled look, and I realised how close I had come to revealing Grey Warden secrets. "...scouting...so I figured it was close to the battle. I knew what was going to happen, and I tried to get there sooner, I really did, but I wasn't fast enough. So instead I tried to catch up to you, to convince you to withdraw or, I don't know, something, before Loghain abandoned you...but I was too late for that, too. The battle had started, and there were so many darkspawn, and people dying everywhere...It took me forever to find you, and by the time I did, that ogre had...and then I thought I had lost you both, that I was going to have to watch you die in person, instead of, uh, through the window, and...I don't know what happened. The ground shook, and a bunch of darkspawn died, and I figured there must have been a mage somewhere that I couldn't see...and then I passed out. Woke up moments before you did, Duncan."

I stopped talking, concentrating on trying not to weep. Before the farm, I had never seen a dead body in my life. Definitely had never seen a battle, or a darkspawn, a monster. Playing computer games had not prepared me for the violence, the noise, the smells of people screaming and fighting and dying. Even now that coppery scent of blood still lingered in my nose, and I wondered if it would ever go away. Finally allowing myself to realise how dangerous, how insane this was, how incredibly stupid I'd been to wade into the middle of that battle, the tears turned into full out sobs, and I put my head on my knees and fell apart. After a few stunned moments, it was Cailan who came over and put a hesitant hand on my arm. When I didn't object, he put his arm over my shoulders, comforting me, and I eventually curled into his side and bawled. I hated myself for doing it, but couldn't seem to stop. Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, I fell asleep, my head still on the shoulder of the King of Ferelden. _What a mind fuck_.

* * *

A/N:

Many thanks to Kira Tamarion, Rhia474, and Bookworm86 for their invaluable help as beta-readers. All remaining errors are my own.

Like everyone, I don't own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Please review - it's what we amateur authors live for!


	4. Plausible Deniability

**Chapter Four: Plausible Deniability**

When I woke, it was dark. I was curled in a ball, laying on the hard ground, but realised my head was pillowed somehow...

Memories came rushing back. O_h God, my head is in Cailan's lap_. I briefly worried about my body, at home - two days now, at least, without food or water, lying in my own waste, unless someone had found me. Knowing there was nothing I could do about it, I tried to put it out of my mind. Undecided what to do, I lay still, and realised Duncan and Cailan were talking quietly. I listened, too exhausted to bother even sitting up.

"Her story sounds insane."

"I know, Duncan. But somehow I still believe her. Don't you? I mean, she knew about the battle. She knew Loghain would betray us, knew we would die. Knew all the servants still in camp would die. Somehow, this strangely dressed woman just shows up, in the middle of nowhere, knowing the future? I'm guessing by the look on your face she knows more about the infamous Grey Warden secrets than she's supposed to, but she doesn't know the normal things about being here. You should have heard us talking while you were scouting. She's quite obviously never spoken to royalty before, which isn't that unusual if she's a commoner, but then you're right - she sure acts like a noble, and none of even the minor nobility would be so confused about the protocol when speaking to me."

"I still don't like it, your Majesty." Duncan sounded concerned. "There's more to this story. She is involved, somehow, in how we survived. Which I'm grateful for, don't get me wrong, but she is either hiding something, or completely mad. There's no way this girl could have found her way through the mess that battle turned into without injury unless she has some sort of skills, but she practically swoons at the sight of blood, so she's clearly no fighter."

Duncan thought, trying to explain his concern. "Did you see the ranks of dead Emissaries near where we woke? There was a blast pattern, radiating out from where she must have been standing. She killed them, I'm sure of it. We both know the mages were way in the back, and most of them would have left with Loghain. There weren't any with the Grey Wardens or on the front lines."

"That's like the farm she mentioned. I was there, Duncan. There were dead darkspawn everywhere, and an Emissary, even. There was an entire slaughtered family, covered with blankets, arms crossed on their chests, and a huge pit someone had dug to bury their corpses. We didn't tell anyone about it, and sent the only survivors off to safety in the north - how would she have heard about it unless she was there? She must have killed those darkspawn too, somehow. Maybe she's a mage? An apostate? She's clearly terrified."

"Your Majesty, I know you have a weakness for damsels in distress, but please try not to look at her like that?" Cailan chuckled, and I felt his hand stroke my hair softly, once. Duncan sighed. "Being an apostate still wouldn't explain her uncanny knowledge. I don't know if Loghain planned his treachery in advance..." the tone of this said they'd already had this discussion, possibly more than once, while I slept, "but if he did he wouldn't have let someone who knew about it slip out of his grasp. And how does she know about Alistair and Aedan? We didn't tell anyone he was a Cousland - you and I were the only two who knew. Alistair didn't even know! But she does. Yet...no one can know the future. Not even the most powerful magic could possibly explain what she claims to know."

"I told you it isn't magic," I complained. Cailan jumped at the sound of my muffled voice, and I took the opportunity to disentangle myself from him. My face felt gritty, my mouth was full of cotton balls, and my back was sore in a way it hadn't been since I was a little girl, falling asleep in my toy box to hide from monsters. I stretched, nodded my thanks to Duncan who passed me the water, and took a swig. To their amusement, I also poured a small amount of water onto my hands, scrubbing vaguely at the dirt encrusted there, and then also on my face. Feeling damp but far more human, I passed the water back. I turned to Cailan, trying to keep from blushing, and failing.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. For the...uh, comfort. And the pillow." I clasped my hands over my mouth, embarrassed anew. Cailan threw back his head and laughed.

"You're more than welcome. I'm sorry you overheard us discussing that. We should have gone out of earshot, but I didn't want to disturb you."

"It's okay. Neither of you have any reason to trust me, your Majesty. You'd be perfectly within your rights to have me imprisoned, or worse."

"We're rather short of prison cells at the moment, my Lady." He winked at me again, and I giggled, even as Duncan snorted. "Are you hungry?" He gestured towards the remainder of the rabbit carcass, and I shook my head, my stomach rebelling at the thought. _I can see eating here is going to be a problem_.

"If it helps, your Majesty, I will give you my oath to answer all of your questions to the best of my ability. And to offer what meagre help I can to you both. And hopefully in time I can prove my good intentions. Or I'll disappear somehow, and you won't have to worry about me either way." I didn't know whether I'd be disappointed or relieved if - or rather, when - that happened.

"Before we get into that, I'd like to point something out. You shouldn't be calling me 'your majesty' anymore. Either of you." Duncan and I both protested, but he continued anyway.

"We've gone to some effort to hide my identity. It would be a shame to waste it all the first time one of you bows, or calls me 'your majesty' in public, wouldn't it? I'd hate to have cut my hair for nothing." He ran a rueful hand over his blond mess, and I laughed again.

"But what should we call you? Ca...your name isn't going to be much less recognisable."

"You're allowed to say it, you know." At my questioning glance, he elaborated. "My name. Please. If you expect me to call you Sierra, you can at least call me Cailan." I nodded, grateful.

"You're right, Cailan. This goes for you too, Duncan. You need aliases. What would you like to be called? We should probably take to practicing right away."

"Ooh! I've always wanted an alias! Let me think. What name should I use? I need something bold, a name for a handsome hero of legend, no? What about...oh, I know! I shall be Garahel, named after the man who killed the last Archdemon during the fourth Blight. Perfect!"

"Your Ma...Cailan. If the goal is to remain unnoticed, perhaps a name that wouldn't draw so much attention?" Duncan asked drily. He looked somehow both amused and annoyed. Cailan was smirking, and I realised he was baiting Duncan. I covered a giggle with a fake cough.

"Wasn't Garahel a dwarf?"

"Perhaps you would like to bestow our aliases upon us then, dear lady." Cailan quirked an eyebrow, and I knew my giggle had been caught.

"Oh God. Uh..."

"God? Do you mean the Maker?"

"Another hard question. At home, there are many different religions, but most of the common ones near where I live just call the deity God. There are a lot of similarities to the Maker, from what I could tell. I'm going to need to train myself to think different curse words here." They looked skeptical. I ignored them, shaking my head to clear it. "Returning to the name question. How about something quite common, then." I wracked my brain, looking for NPC names I'd seen but who weren't major characters. "How about...Theron, for you, Cailan, and Duncan, you can be...Tomas?"

I saw them both consider, then nod. We sat quietly for a moment, but I knew it wouldn't last. All joking aside, they still had no reason to trust me. I hit upon an inspiration, and started unlacing my boots. I did have a few things I could use to back up my story, after all. I passed one to a confused looking Du...Tomas, and the other to Theron. They both looked down, surprised, but I saw Tomas' face immediately go blank, a mask to cover what he was thinking. Theron still looked confused, but Tomas started slowly examining the boot in detail. I saw him look at the stitching, the leather, the rubber sole, the thick laces. Looking back up at me, his face still guarded, I shrugged.

"They're quite common, where I'm from. They're not even particularly high quality." That got a response, though I couldn't quite read the expression. He lifted one of the laces, and raised an eyebrow. "Nylon. They're made of nylon. It's a synthetic fabric." Theron, less practiced at schooling his facial expressions, looked even more confused. "Man made. The fabric is...actually, I have no idea how nylon is made, but it isn't natural. We have a science that I guess is similar to your alchemy? They can make all sorts of things. Nylon is just one of them." I forestalled his next question. "The stitches are done by a machine, not by hand. That is how they're so regular." _Do they have machines here? Hmm._ "The soles are rubber, which I think is made from the sap of some sort of tree. Although maybe it's synthetic too, now that I think about it. Either way, it's incredibly hardy, and completely waterproof."

I took the boots back, lacing them into place, before taking off my jacket and handing it over. Both - uh - Theron and Tomas looked at the zippers in amazement, opening and closing them multiple times. Then they both exclaimed as I grabbed the water skin and trickled a little bit of water over the fabric, and they saw it run off without leaving the jacket damp.

"Nylon, again, but backed with plastic. Another man-made material, completely waterproof. More flexible than rubber, more versatile. You can buy a jacket like this for less than fifty dollars in any st...merchant shop. They're made by machine and are incredibly cheap to produce."

"Dollars?" Theron asked.

"Oh, right. Um, money. Coin. Whatever you want to call it. Let's see...how much would a loaf of bread cost, on average?" I indicated a standard, supermarket sized loaf with my hands. Theron looked embarrassed, and it didn't take much to realise why - he would have absolutely no way of knowing something like that. I would have laughed if he didn't look so chagrined. Tomas answered.

"Perhaps...25 copper."

"Okay. Where I'm from, it would cost, say, two to three dollars. So rough estimate, assuming the relative prices of other things are the same..." I quickly did some math in my head. "One silver is ten dollars. That jacket would cost perhaps five silvers." Both men looked at me incredulously. "It's true! I'm not considered wealthy, where I come from, but I have perhaps eight or ten pairs of footwear that would be similar in price to these boots, and probably six equivalent jackets. Machines make producing these things quite inexpensive compared to having to get a cobbler to make shoes by hand, for example." I shrugged my jacket back on, self-conscious now under two speculative gazes.

"Yeah, okay, it sounds incredible to you, I'm sure. But we don't have access to magic. I mean, just think about health poultices. Consider - in my world, you would both be dead from injuries which barely look to pain you at present. We have our drawbacks, too." I could see confusion warring with disbelief on both of their faces, but the disbelief seemed to be decreasing. I hoped.

I started emptying my pockets next. They were both very interested in the safety pins, the compass, and even the small compact with a mirror and the plastic comb. I showed off the flashlight, hand-charging the battery and then clicking it on, to appreciative oohs and ahhs. _Apparently, I'm a showboat._ When I brought out the lighter, they were both amazed, and both of them managed to burn their fingers before I got it safely tucked away again.

"You cheated!" exclaimed Theron. "You let me think you started the fire from scratch." I grinned and nodded, and he laughed.

If I thought the other items in my pockets surprised them, the printout of the map of Ferelden completely stunned them. Though it turned out it wasn't so much the map itself as the paper it was printed on, and the type of print. I shrugged, giving the usual response - "a machine."

The Swiss army knife was definitely the crowd favourite, however. I wish I knew how to make them - I'd give one to Ca...Theron, and watch his head explode. I wondered if it would be as funny to watch Alistair with it.

Settling down against my rock again, I watched them pass my meagre belongings back and forth. Finally, I tucked most of them into a pouch Du...Tomas produced from somewhere, and put them in the pack, inviting both men to help themselves if they needed something. We sat quietly again for a while, and I watched both men think.

"So...I'm sure it will take some time, but can you both consider the possibility that I'm telling the truth about where I'm from?" Exchanging meaningful looks, eventually Theron nodded, but Tomas studied my face while I held my breath. One of them may be the King, but I knew whose goodwill I needed if I was going to be able to help, to influence events in any way. _To stay alive_, a small part of me whispered. _Shut up_. Finally, Duncan nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Duncan stirred. "Would you explain how you know so much about Ferelden, then, in more detail?"

"That's a hard one to explain. I...okay. Have you even been to see a theatre performance? You know, actors, on a stage, acting out a story?" Both men nodded. "In my world, using more of the machines I keep trying to explain, we have found a way to record such performances. And using yet another machine, those performances can be watched again, from home, through the window I told you about. It's a form of entertainment. Mostly they are dull, someone's idea of an epic romance or whatever.

"In this case, it is a little different. I'm forced to assume that someone else either dreamed of this place, in amazingly accurate detail, or visited here. They created a version of Ferelden as one of these performances. It starts at Castle Cousland, when you rescued Aedan from Arl Howe's betrayal. It follows Aedan as he and Alistair have to combat the Blight, alone. But this performance is a little bit different than most. Using the window and a sort of sending stone, you can actually influence the decisions that Aedan and Alistair make. You can help them decide where to go and who to talk to. In this way, I witnessed the entire Blight through the eyes of Aedan. It ends when the Archdemon is dead."

"But...why?" asked Theron.

"Why what? Why do people watch? Another hard question." I debated.

"Why did you?"

"Oh...a lot of reasons, I suppose. One was boredom. I lost my job - my employer went out of business - and I was having a hard time getting a new one. So I was at home, alone, and bored. Also, it's a sort of escape - my life is very safe, for which I am thankful, but very...dreary. And very lonely. It was an easy way to have something more exciting. 'Be a hero! Meet interesting people! Have an adventure!' But never have to give up the comforts of home. It seemed so harmless. I didn't know it was real. I thought it was just a performance."

"So have other people watched our...performance?"

"Yes. Thousands upon thousands of people. It's very popular."

"I am almost afraid to ask. In the performance...what happens?"

_Oh boy_. "Well...okay, so...Duncan rescues Aedan. He becomes a Grey Warden. And then Loghain betrays the army, and all is lost at Ostagar. You both...die. There is no way to change that part of it, in the performance."

"I feel remarkably good for a dead man!" Theron smiled, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. He looked...haunted. I couldn't blame him.

"So, anyways, Aedan and Alistair are the only survivors. Loghain returns to Denerim and declares himself regent, and basically starts a civil war. Alistair and Aedan end up traveling around, to Redcliffe, and to see the Dalish, and Orzammar, and even the Circle Tower, using Grey Warden treaties to get everyone to pledge their aid to the cause. Of course, it isn't that easy, and I can go into detail later if you like, but anyway, they meet a lot of friends, finally get everyone to agree to aid them, and then challenge Loghain in the Landsmeet. If they win, they...uh...get the chance to figure out who will rule Ferelden, and then, they battle the darkspawn, kill the Archdemon. And then the...uh...performance is over."

"What do you mean, they figure out who will rule Ferelden?" Theron asked, at the same time Tomas blurted out "Who killed the Archdemon?" Theron looked angry, so I thought to answer him first. _Oh boy_. I looked to Tomas for help, eyes pleading. I didn't want to out Alistair in front of his half-brother, not without talking to him first. Tomas looked startled, briefly, but then the mask dropped back into place and he stepped in so I didn't have to answer.

"I'm sure there would be chaos in the Landsmeet, Your Majesty, after your death," he said, carefully. I knew he used the honorific on purpose, this time. "If Loghain was thought to be a traitor, then Anora would lose some support, and...it would take some work to get that all figured out, I imagine." I hastily nodded, hoping the explanation would satisfy him. It seemed to work. _And Alistair always thought Cailan must be so smart._

Tomas raised his eyebrows at me, obviously waiting for my answer to his question next. "It depends. On what choices were made, during the, ah, performance." I tried to indicate we should discuss it later. He let it go, so I hoped he understood.

"So...this time...we lived. The battle was still lost, but...we didn't die. What does that mean for the story?" I looked up to find two sets of concerned, piercing eyes staring at me. I sagged under their weight.

"I have absolutely no idea. I'm sorry."

* * *

A/N:

I hope you're all enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it. Thanks to everyone who has commented so far, and to everyone else - please comment! It's what keeps me going.

Many thanks to my fabulous betas: Kira Tamarion, Bookwyrm86, and Rhia474.

As always, I don't own Dragon Age, I just play here.


	5. Keeping Secrets

**Chapter Five: Keeping Secrets**

Theron cleared his throat after a few awkward minutes.

"One more question. In this...performance, do you ever find out why? Why did Loghain betray me?"

"Not precisely. There's a lot of debate over that issue, actually, between different people who pl...watched the performance. Some say Loghain just went mad. Power hungry. Some figured that he hated you, because of some weird issue between him and your parents. Some thought he truly did the best he could when he saw the overwhelming odds against you at Ostagar, and then went mad with guilt. Others thought that perhaps..." I hesitated. _What the hell, I'm curious too_. "...the battle didn't, uh, go according to plan, and between your line moving up too far and the beacon being lit too late, he could see that there was no chance to save you." I could see Theron milling that over, trying to understand what I meant. Duncan caught on quicker, his eyes flickering to my face, and he gave his head a small shake.

_Huh. Thought not. I always knew Loghain was a jerk._

"Personally? I think it's because of what's in those papers you recovered from your chest at Ostagar." Now it was Tomas' turn to look confused, and Theron's turn to be surprised by what I knew. I had noticed that Theron didn't let either me or Tomas get a look at the contents of the chest. The secrets were starting to get difficult to work around. Remembering to say (nevermind think) the correct aliases was also difficult.

I sighed. "Look. I think both of you have questions, or want to talk about things, that the other shouldn't know. You know, Grey Warden Secrets, Crown secrets, that sort of thing. And I'm sure you both want to test my knowledge of said secrets, to better determine if I'm telling the truth. I'm thinking that either you both agree that I can spill all of the ones I know in front of both of you," I forestalled Tomas who opened his mouth, "just wait, I didn't say that was my preferred option! - or you agree to go for a walk for a while so I can talk to you one at a time. What do you think?"

Both men studiously avoided looking at each other and agreed with the latter. _It's amazing how easy it is to see what people's expressions mean when you know all their secrets!_ But first Du...Tomas requested that before we did that, I recount the battle for him, again.

I tried to describe my horror during the battle, my fear, but my determination to figure out some way not to leave Alistair and Aedan alone to combat the Blight. I tried to leave out my ridiculous attachment to Alistair, and I think they both were too caught up in the details to notice. I hope. Tomas asked a lot of pointed questions about what and who I saw, the ratio of men to darkspawn, and that sort of thing. I tried to answer as honestly as I could, but I truly hadn't been paying attention to the details at the time. I described seeing Cailan picked up and then thrown by the ogre, Duncan get delayed by a very large hurlock, screaming a lot, hearing the Emissaries chanting, the ground rumbling below me as darkspawn started dropping dead, and then passing out.

"We're missing something. I don't understand. Why would you being there, the only thing that changed between your performance and the reality, mean that Cailan and I lived? And from what I could see as we picked our way off the field, there were several squads of human corpses missing from the battlefield. I think somehow, some of the squads were actually able to successfully escape, which from what you've said, also didn't happen in your performance. Whatever that rumbling was, I think it was effective enough that the front lines held so some of the back lines were able to retreat. But the rumbling...there were no mage corpses that I saw, and with so few mages marching with us, there shouldn't have been any near enough the front lines to do that sort of damage. I've never seen anything like that blast pattern near where we woke.

"I have to ask, Sierra, though I'm sincerely hoping you would have told us by now if you were, but...are you a mage?" My jaw dropped, and I let out a decidedly unladylike snort.

"Me? You must be joking. I'm from a world without magic. Any magic. How would I have been born a mage? And surely I'd know if I cast some sort of spell. Wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, my lady. No, no, I believe you. If you have magic, it's as much a surprise to you as it is to us. Perhaps we will find the explanation later. For now, I feel the need to go for a walk. Your m...Theron, perhaps when you are done talking to Lady Sierra, you'd be so kind as to whistle or something?" Theron nodded, and Tomas sprang up and walked out into the night.

Theron looked at me thoughtfully while we waited for Tomas to get far enough away. I expected him to test me, and I wasn't wrong.

"So...tell me about the contents of the chest."

I nodded. "Correspondence with the Empress of Orlais, if I recall correctly. Pledging military aid, Chevaliers, and Grey Wardens on request. You were forging peace with the Orlesians."

"And why would that make Loghain betray me?"

"Well, in isolation, it might not. Although maybe it would. It's no secret that Loghain hates Orlesians with an unholy dedication. He's the Hero of River Dane, after all. He sees conspiracies and invasion plans everywhere, and nothing you or anyone else says will ever change his mind. To him, the darkspawn and civil war are a minor threat when compared to Orlais. If he thought you were going to so much as show weakness in front of Empress Celene, never mind invite parts of her military into Ferelden, there's no doubt in my mind he'd betray you. He'd either assume you were crazy, or a traitor yourself. Add that to the rumours about Anora..."

"Rumours?" His eyes were hard now, glittering in the firelight.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just repeating what I've heard. There was a rumour circulating that you were going to put Anora aside for being barren. And I know Arl Eamon was pushing you to do just that. The performance never confirmed whether you were going to go ahead with it. But even the rumours...it would have been a huge blow to Loghain, both personally and politically. And he would have had much less influence on you suddenly, fewer ways to keep the Orlesians out of Ferelden.

"I'm curious. Had you decided...?" He shook his head, his expression conflicted. That jived with the game - it at least implied that he loved Anora, although I couldn't imagine why anyone would love that backstabbing bitch. _Here's hoping he lives to see what she's really like._ I knew, at some point, I was going to end up getting myself in trouble by throwing my two cents in to the Royal Heir debate, but I decided to wait until I had spoken to Alistair, at least.

"And it's not just you that he betrayed - he will arrange to have Arl Eamon poisoned, put a bounty on the heads of any surviving Grey Wardens, hire the Antivan Crows to assassinate Alistair and Aedan, and not stop Arl Howe from imprisoning and torturing Grey Wardens, templars, and nobles alike. He is fomenting rebellion among the Circle, which will result in the loss of half the mages in Ferelden. He will sell the elves from the Denerim Alienage into slavery to the Tevinters. And when he loses in the Landsmeet, he will attempt to slaughter Alistair, Aedan, Eamon, and anyone else who would dare to stand up to him. If he learns you are alive...I have no doubt that the bounty on your head will be truly breathtaking."

Theron swore, and I learned a few new good Ferelden curses. "By the way. Duncan," _Tomas_, "knows most of this stuff. Not necessarily the details of the correspondence with Celene, but...he's not stupid. And you can trust him. You might as well just tell him. The same goes for Alistair, and likely Aedan too." He nodded thoughtfully, and finally whistled, loudly, and Tomas sauntered back up. He suggested that Theron go sit by the stream, pointing off a little ways north, and then settled down onto his haunches, watching me as we waited for Theron to walk away. _I'm not getting any better at remembering their names correctly. Yay me!_

I spoke first.

"I want to thank you." Tomas just silently raised his eyebrows, so I continued. "I know who I need to have trust me if I'm going to get through this. I can't fight, I can't take care of myself, and I haven't earned your trust…yet. I have no friends, no family, and no reliable way home. I am grateful that you are allowing me to attempt to prove myself. I know that if you thought I was a threat, you'd have killed me the moment your eyes opened. So...thanks." He nodded, looking thoughtful. "Anyways. Go ahead and test me."

"Tell me about Alistair."

"Ah, Alistair. Let me see. Ex-templar-in-training. Bastard son of Maric, via an elven Grey Warden named Fiona. Raised by Eamon, told his mother was a serving woman in Redcliffe Castle. Treated abominably by Isolde, and finally sent to the Chantry as a child when she wouldn't put up with the rumour mill anymore. Rescued by you, requiring the Right of Conscription, before he took his vows and became addicted to Lyrium." Duncan kept the mask on the entire time I spoke, but I saw his eye twitch when I mentioned Fiona. _Haha, thank you David Gaider._ "Does Cailan know about him?" Duncan twitched his head, a look I interpreted to mean he had no idea.

"He has a minor obsession with his hair, which would appear to be hereditary," I grinned, and Duncan nodded, "an unholy obsession with cheese, thinks swooping is bad, uses jokes to avoid discussing virtually anything personal, and has a tendency to make both mages and Revered Mothers want to rip out their hair in aggravation. He has an overwhelming need to do what is right, no matter the cost, a sense of duty I wish was more common, both in Ferelden and in my world, and yet somehow remains a sweet, somewhat naive, optimist. He makes a much better King than Cailan ever could, despite never ever wanting to be one. Oh, and he's a virgin. Did I miss anything?" Duncan levelled that speculative gaze at me again, and I suddenly realised I must have sounded like an obsessive stalker. _God help me, it's pretty much what I am, isn't it?_

"You may have missed handsome and charismatic. But otherwise, no, I'd say you got it all in one." He smirked as I blushed and hid my face in my hands. Giving me a moment to recover, he started again. "Tell me about Aedan."

"I actually know less about Aedan than you would think, because for the performance, you're sort of...looking through his eyes, in a way. So he doesn't really describe himself or give away his personality much. But...well, he's the youngest son of Teyrn Bryce Cousland. He grew up in Highever Castle, training with his brother Fergus in combat, although the Teyrn hoped he'd be more inclined to learn about ruling than fighting. He has a mabari, who drives Nan nuts. Mother Mallol ran the chapel, and a scholar named Aldous was his tutor. On the day you met, Arl Howe was in Highever, and claimed his troops were delayed. You were there to look into recruiting Ser Gilmore, or possibly Aedan himself. The Teyrn sent Fergus to Ostagar with most of his men, planning to follow the next day once Howe's troops arrived. That night, Howe attacked, killing Fergus' wife Orianna, his son Oren, and virtually every other inhabitant of the castle. Eleanor Cousland and Aedan fought their way through the castle, finally finding the Teyrn fatally wounded. In the end, Bryce pledged Aedan to the Grey Wardens in return for your assurances that you would help Aedan escape, and bring word to Cailan about what had happened. And Eleanor stayed behind to protect your escape." Duncan nodded, seeming satisfied.

"And how did he become a Grey Warden?"

"The joining. I don't really know the details of the ritual - it was sort of hazy, but Aedan, Alistair, Jory, and Daveth went into the Wilds to collect Darkspawn blood for the ritual. It was actually their trail of corpses I followed to find Ostagar. Anyway, they were also to collect some old Grey Warden treaties that had been abandoned in a ruin in the Wilds. They ran into Morrigan and Flemeth, who actually had the treaties in her possession."

Duncan sputtered, interrupting me. "Flemeth? **The** Flemeth?"

"Yep. Witch of the Wilds. The one and only. Oh, and Alistair likely called her daughter a sneaky Witch thief. You should be grateful he's not a toad right now." Duncan groaned, and I laughed. "It's actually Flemeth who saved them after they lit the beacon at the Tower of Ishal, as well. Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. So there's some sort of ritual where they drink darkspawn blood with a little bit of Archdemon blood mixed in. Daveth went first, and died. Then Jory pulled his sword and you killed him. And then Aedan drank, and lived."

"And what do you know about me?" I had to think. What did I know about him?

"Well, you killed a Grey Warden, and were about to be executed, when you were conscripted, by your victim's betrothed, no less. You're now the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden. And you realised, not so long ago, that your Calling has begun. Alistair thinks the world of you, as do the Dwarves, the Dalish, the Alienage elves, and Cailan. The templars and the Chantry don't trust you, because sometimes you recruit apostates, and take Circle mages from their control, and they don't like that very much. And you stole their templar-in-training. Other than that? Not a lot. In the performance...you died, early on.

"So, before you ask, let me volunteer a few other fun facts. Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Unfortunately, the darkspawn can sense them in turn. They have nightmares about the Archdemon, which are, unsurprisingly, worse during a Blight. They eat more than any person has a right to, they're all but infertile, and their lifespan is shortened to approximately 30 years from whenever they joined. After roughly three decades of being a Warden, they get the Calling. If they don't do something about it, they start to become darkspawn, or ghouls, or something. So instead they go down to the Deep Roads alone and try to get dead before the Taint takes over. Unfortunately, some of them don't get dead. They turn. Especially those that run into the Architect. And the females...they get turned into Brood Mothers. Weisshaupt has tried, with some success, to hide these facts from the rest of the Grey Wardens.

"To add to the fun, a Grey Warden is the only one who can kill the Archdemon. And the reason for that is that the Archdemon's essence, or soul, or whatever, will live on and inhabit a new darkspawn body, unless there's a Grey Warden making the killing blow. If a Warden kills it, the soul instead tries to inhabit the Warden, and...voila. Mutual annihilation."

"Voila? You speak Orlesian?"

"Uh, bits and pieces. It's very similar to a language in my world. I learned a bit as a kid. I don't use it much though, so I'm not exactly fluent. I'd like to just add, on a personal note: shame you for not telling Alistair about the whole Archdemon thing. I understand why you haven't told Aedan yet...but do you realise that you just about left the fate of Ferelden in the hands of two men who had no idea that one of them would die when they faced the Archdemon?" He had the decency to look a little guilty. "You need to tell them, Tomas. A soon as possible. I know you want to shelter Alistair from that, and especially from taking the killing blow on the Archdemon, but he deserves to know. You have to stop coddling him, and treat him like a Grey Warden." Tomas nodded, looking resigned.

"Anyways. Um...There's a Grey Warden storage sort of place behind a hidden door in a warehouse in Denerim's Market District. Somehow Loghain found out about it, and while he left most of the stuff there, he stole the last of the Archdemon blood. So until he is dealt with, you can't create any more Grey Wardens.

"Oh...and Riordan, an Orlesian Grey Warden, is currently in the dungeon of the Arl of Denerim's estate in Denerim. Or maybe he's about to be there...I admit that the timing of some of these events is a little confusing. In the performance, they skip pesky details like weeks of walking between destinations, so I don't know exactly when all these events occur."

"Pesky?"

"Oh. Right. Um...something between irritating and unimportant for the purpose at hand. I suppose."

"Travel times are pesky?"

"Well...okay, if you went to see a theatre performance, where part of a story was a journey from, say, Val Royeaux to Denerim, would you want to watch every minute of people just walking along, peacefully, and then making camp, and eating food, and sleeping, and then more walking? They just...skip ahead to the interesting bits."

Tomas chuckled. "So. Last question. You're here. As you've said, as far as you know you may just be dreaming. None of this may be real. You may be pulled back home, you may be stuck here. But, assuming that you do stay, what do you intend?"

"Well, I don't intend any harm to come to Ferelden, or the King, or the Grey Wardens. I suppose that's the first place to start. If I could, I'd...well, I suppose I'd try to end the Blight. I'd try to put Cailan back on his throne, so Alistair doesn't have to do it. So I guess I intend to aid those efforts, if I can. All I can offer is information, but I will give that freely to you, or Alistair, or Aedan. Or, I suppose, Cailan, if all else fails."

"You could always have run. I wonder, then, why you didn't?"

I nodded. It was a logical question. "I suppose...well, a couple of reasons. One is that really, where could I run to? If the Blight isn't ended, there won't be anywhere safe to go. Another is that I'm not even sure I have the choice - I mean, ending up on a farm near Ostagar just in time to see a darkspawn attack? Or in the Korcari Wilds, on the very day of battle? I'm not completely sure that if I go somewhere else, try to flee, that I won't just get yanked out of this world and then dropped back wherever this magic...thing...feels I should be. I could try to run only to end up right back in the middle of it all.

"And, I mean...you've seen that I admire Alistair's sense of right and wrong, of duty. Knowing what I know, knowing that if I act, do something, I can spare suffering, save lives, end the Blight sooner, prevent civil war... if I know that, and this is real, and I don't even try...what does that make me?"

I looked up to see an expression on Duncan's (and at that moment, I couldn't see him as anyone other than Duncan) face that I assumed was something like what Alistair or Aedan must have seen when they woke after their Joining rituals. Pride. He reached out and squeezed my hand, briefly, and I blushed. _One day, I'm just going to stay this colour_.

He whistled and Theron came back, crashing through the undergrowth in the darkness.

"I think that soon, we should all get some sleep, but I wondered if you'd indulge me in just a few more questions, Sierra."

"Of course, Tomas. Hit me."

"Hit...?"

"Uh. Oh. It's a saying meaning...please go ahead and ask your questions."

"I'm not even going to ask how that could possibly be...nevermind. So. You mentioned before that Alistair and Aedan are going to be heading to Lothering."

"With Morrigan. Yes."

"Morrigan? The witch?"

"Yep. Flemeth sends her with the boys. She's a bit...unsociable. But quite useful, overall."

"Um. Okay, so...Lothering?"

"Right. Well, neither Alistair nor Aedan know the best routes out of the Wilds, and Morrigan knows how to get to Lothering. So she takes them there. It will be absolutely overflowing with refugees, but if we hang out near the Chantry we will probably find them." Tomas and Theron mouthed the words 'hang out' at each other, and I blushed. "Alternatively, we can find Leliana, an Orlesian Chantry sister. She will manage to track them down without trouble."

"When?"

"Well, like I said. I don't exactly know. I know that both Alistair and Aedan are injured, and Flemeth has to heal them. And they should have a longer walk to get to Lothering than we do since they will be starting south of Ostagar in the Wilds. I think. I imagine we'll have a least a day, maybe more, before they catch up to us." They considered that briefly. "Can I ask a practical question?" Both men nodded.

"Well, I don't mean to be nosey, but...do we have any money? I mean, uh, coin?" Tomas admitted to having a small collection of silver, but Theron interrupted.

"We don't need coin. I can requisition what I need in town, and give them a token to claim what they are owed from the Royal Treasury." I stared, open-mouthed, at the stupid, naive, arrogant...Fortunately Tomas cut in before I had the chance to say any of what I was thinking.

"Cailan, the King of Ferelden, most certainly can do those things. But Theron, the non-descript refugee from Blight-infested areas to the south absolutely cannot. First of all, they'd never believe you, as you are; second, do you really want to give Loghain the opportunity to try to have you killed again? This alias, this bluff, it is necessary. It is the only way to keep you safe. Until we can tell all of Ferelden what happened, you need to be anonymous. And third - if this town is as overflowing with refugees as Sierra says, there won't be anything for you to requisition anyway. We're going to have to hope we can buy whatever supplies we need. So. Do you? Have any coin?" Theron flushed, initially looking irritated, but more chagrined by the end. He shook his head.

"I wonder if these are any good here?" I fished in my pockets some more, coming out with a decent handful of change. I put the paper money aside - _useless_ - and was left with some pennies, dimes, quarters, and even a couple of loonies and toonies, one- and two-dollar coins. Tomas examined them, amazed at the clear imprinting on the coins, studying them intently.

He pointed at the pennies, thinking they'd be good for maybe a 25 copper piece. The dimes he figured would be worth five or ten silver each, the quarters more like 25 silver. The loonies he thought we might be able to use as sovereigns, but he wasn't sure. The toonies he was fascinated by, but felt no one would accept as currency. I recalled hearing that if you froze them, you could break toonies so the inner golden-coloured disk separated from the outer silver disk, but I had no good way of freezing them. I put the toonies back in my pocket, and told Tomas to add the rest of my change to his purse. If the loonies would indeed pass, I had handed over about five sovereigns, a small fortune. I made a mental note to bring more small change if I ended up back at home again.

I thought about how we could approach Lothering as I settled down on the ground to sleep. I automatically chose the opposite side of the fire from where Theron reclined. Theron gave me an odd smile, from the other side of the fire, which felt decidedly...weird. I ignored it, choosing to put my back to him and trying to relax. Tomas had claimed he would keep watch, and was sitting on a rock a little apart from the fire. I wasn't cold, but I certainly wasn't comfortable, and I shifted around for a while looking for a better position. After a few minutes, I heard Theron start to snore softly. Somehow the sound was so...homey, I finally closed my own eyes and drifted off.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/followed. I hope I can keep everyone interested! I am going to answer specific questions in my author's notes, so everyone can see the answers.

As always, thanks to my fabulous beta who keep me in line and keep the writing tight - Kira Tamarion, rhia474, and bookwyrm86.

I don't own Dragon Age, I just play here.

A few interesting reviews I'd like to respond to specifically:

Shinkansen: Canon implies Cailan tried to ally with Orlais, not marry the empress. Lots of authors seem to go this route, but if you raid Eamon's desk in Redcliffe you'll find evidence that Cailan refused to put Anora aside despite urging. I think he strongly would have expected Anora to continue to rule. Just me, of course. As for Sierra's crush on Alistair - unsurprising, I suspect, and sorry about that, but you have to give her credit for trying to let it go! :)

RogueKittyKat: Thanks. I read a couple of excellent ones - I very much enjoyed Bellaknoti's, and there's one I'm trying to recall the name of that the description read "There's a dead darkspawn on the hood of my car." I don't usually like insertion fics, but those inspired me :) I hope I can maintain the interest, and keep it from being a total Mary Sue. And keep Sierra from being me. I have no desire to write a self-insert - Ugh!

Clafount: Just thanks! I'm enjoying your Poison and Wine quite a bit, so it's gratifying to see someone who's writing I like appreciate mine!


	6. Preparations

**Chapter Six: Preparations**

I woke, at home, stiff and sore in my own bed. I was surprised to find that I was dry, no indication that I had soiled myself while unconscious. And my pockets were largely empty, so most of the things I left in the pack must still be there. _Good to know_. My bladder did feel full, but not painfully so, and I rolled out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom to deal with some personal issues. Afterwards, I stood, turning to the mirror to wash my hands, and gasped as I glanced up at myself.

My hair was hanging off my head, dirty and tangled. My hands and face were filthy, covered in mud, and what must apparently have been darkspawn blood was spattered across my hands and my face. There were tear tracks apparent, leftover from my brief breakdown at camp, the only spots on my face that looked clean. I had never been so disgusting in my life.

I stripped bare, immediately hopping into a long, hot shower. I scrubbed until my skin was pink, washed my hair multiple times and put conditioner in, then just stood under the hot spray until the water started to run cold. Magic may be amazing, but nothing beats a hot shower. I dressed myself again in warm clothes, tied my hair back with an elastic, and started a pile of items to stow in my pockets before I passed out again. The first thing I added to the pile was a large bar of soap and a toothbrush. While digging through my cupboards, I made a fortuitous find - a sample package that must have come in the mail or something, with a man's razor. I added a small pair of hairdressing scissors. I dug through my purse and added all the coins I thought would be of value. And another clean pair of underpants. _You can't have too many clean underpants._

I flipped on the TV as I passed by, confirming that I had indeed been gone for two days. I was surprised to notice that I wasn't especially hungry or thirsty, but I ate and drank anyway. I brought in my mail, paid my bills, and put in a load of laundry, including my jeans and coat.

I turned on my computer, checking my email - still no job offers. _Stupid economy_. Though with all this blacking out, I couldn't really afford to be working anyway. I decided to spend a bit of time researching coins. My modern ones were all fine, but the minute someone realised they weren't really silver or copper we would be in trouble, and I didn't want to draw any attention to ourselves with strange money. It was frustrating trying to find anything online, as they all wanted to advertise rare, expensive coins. Finally I picked through the phone book and found a local coin dealer. I called the store, and actually got a person on the phone. _Impressive_. I hit on an inspiration, and told him that I was hosting a role playing event and wanted things to be 'authentic' but inexpensive. I was looking for copper or silver coins which would look old, but without actually costing me much money. We talked for a bit, and it turned out he had a lot of old Roman and British coin, which wasn't nice enough to be rare, but still looked medieval. He told me lots of it wasn't even legible, and I practically chortled - I didn't look forward to answering questions about who King or Queen or Emperor whoever was in Ferelden anyway. He asked if I wanted it cleaned, what sizes of coin I wanted, and eventually he agreed to box up a large assortment of random copper and silver, basically worthless coin and ship it to me for a couple hundred bucks. I paid over the phone by credit card. _Score!_ I figured I could bring it over a few handfuls at a time.

I also ordered a few more Swiss army knives. I wanted to give Cailan one of his own, and that went double for Alistair.

Finished with gathering all the things I thought I might need, I stuffed my pockets, put on my coat, laced on my heavy hiking boots, and decided that I was ready for whenever the next blackout hit. To my surprise, for the first time, I think I was even looking forward to it.

And so, I waited. And waited.

I stressed about how I would find Duncan and Cailan again. I wondered what they thought of my sudden disappearance. I thought about what we would find in Lothering. I worried about what I'd do the next time I ended up in combat. I briefly considered signing up for self-defense classes, or fencing or something, but figured I'd just end up passing out and getting stabbed by mistake.

The more I thought about Lothering, the more I worried that my clothes were going to be a problem. I needed them to feel prepared in any way, or else I needed to find armour or something, but they were going to draw a lot of attention. No one in Ferelden wears jeans, but there was no way I was wandering around there in a dress, barefoot. I started doing yet more internet research, and found myself staring at Halloween costumes. Perhaps, if I found some sort of over-sized dress that would cover everything, I could blend better. And I needed to find a cloak. Frustrated with trying to figure it out online, I eventually dared to call a cab and venture out to find a custom tailor to sew the garments I needed.

I used the same line about doing a role-playing event, and needing to wear warm clothing underneath a dress but still have it look passable, at least at a distance. The dressmaker seemed to think she could pull something off, and showed me a couple of quick sketches of a simple yet elegant looking dress. She took down my measurements, promising to call me when it was done. I paid a fifty dollar deposit, agreeing to pay extra if the dress and cloak could be available within a couple of days, but warned her that I might be 'out of town' unexpectedly so she'd need to leave a message.

I made it back to my house without blacking out, relieved. After supper, I spent the rest of the evening reading the Dragon Age wiki trying to determine the timeline of events such as Eamon's poisoning, Riordan's capture, Zevran's ambush, and Uldred's attempted coup at the Circle Tower. I was unsuccessful and finally give up in a huff. Between unknown travel times and no forced order in which you experience the events, it just didn't seem possible. I did notice that nothing about the wiki indicated my adventures had any effect on the game. It still cited Duncan and Cailan as having died at Ostagar. I finally climbed into bed, anxious and overly warm, and fell asleep.

The next day I woke still at home, so after working on finding a job for a while, I found myself at a loss. Somehow playing Dragon Age again, or reading the books by David Gaider, just seemed...wrong, knowing that it was actually real, but nothing else appealed to me either. It occurred to me, as I thought about the books, that I actually didn't live all that far from where BioWare and David Gaider were located. I spent the rest of the day, after eating, drinking, showering, and other basic necessities, cyber-stalking David Gaider. I read every interview I could find, hoping to get a glimmer of how he developed the story, how he invented Ferelden. Everything I could find was vague and pointed to a collaborative project between writers and game designers, but I had a hard time believing that was true. He wrote the books. Somehow, some way, he knew more about Ferelden. He'd been there, even if in dreams.

I contemplated going to Edmonton one day and trying to track him down, but didn't get very far along that thought process. Every time I tried to picture it in my head, I ended up locked in a psych ward, or in jail for being a stalker. I put it out of my mind and watched boring television until I finally managed to fall asleep.

The next morning my box of coins arrived. I spent a little while sorting through them, replacing the modern ones in my pockets with useable copper and silver coins. Shortly after, the phone rang, and the tailor informed me my dress was ready. Calling another cab, I went in for a fitting and found a rather perfect, thick, green, floor-length fake velvet gown. It fit over my clothes, and while it made the sleeves look a bit rumpled, it actually worked pretty well. Unless someone came quite close, I would look like a chubby noblewoman. I think. Not that I'd seen any noblewomen to compare, but it was better than wandering around in jeans.

The cloak was even better. Long and thick, it had a deep hood, and looked perfect over the dress. Although I was roasting indoors, I thought I might just appreciate the warmth if I was going to try to wander all over Ferelden. I paid the tailor, only half-listening as she told me she was giving me a discount. Apparently she had been contemplating closing her doors for lack of business, but my dress and cloak had inspired her to wait and try to break into making authentic costumes, whether for Halloween or for Renaissance fairs and the like. I appreciated the discount, either way, and wished her well. I think she was surprised that I wore the dress out of the store, but I figured it was worth it if I managed to black out on the way home.

Lucky for me, and somehow it felt like fate, I made it through the door and dropped my keys just in time to feel the world spin. I dropped onto my bed again and let the blackness take me.

I woke with a start. I was lying on the ground, and someone was shaking me.

"My lady! Sierra! Please. You must get up." I looked up blearily and saw a worried face hovering over me.

"Dun...Tomas? What is it?" I sat up, my head still slightly spinning.

"Darkspawn coming. I can feel them."

"Why is my timing always so terrible?" I took his hand and allowed myself to be pulled up. I looked down, briefly appreciating my cloak and dress briefly before realising that I really could not afford to have them covered in blood. If we survived. _Shut up_. Tomas' mouth gaped open as I dropped the cloak, reached down to grab the hem of the dress and pull it over my head - I had the foresight to avoid buttons, and had the neck made elastic - and quickly rolled both dress and cloak into a small bundle. Tomas finally shook his head and handed me the pack to stuff my things into, as well as the sword I'd scavenged in Ostagar and my dagger. I threw the pack's strap over my shoulder - better that those who knew how to fight remain unencumbered.

I saw Theron standing nearby, sword and shield at the ready. He grinned at me - _the maniac actually looks happy about this!_ - and returned to looking around expectantly. We waited only a few moments before Tomas pointed. A genlock archer and a hurlock were coming up around the bend. The men pushed me to stand behind them, moving forward shoulder to shoulder, weapons at the ready. When the hurlock paused, Theron let out a booming battle shout, and rushed at the archer as he raised his bow. Tomas leaped towards the hurlock, catching a wicked slash of a crude sword on his crossed blades, before jumping back and slashing at the creature's abdomen. Theron batted away a poorly aimed arrow with his shield, rushing the archer and knocking him down. I lost track of the fight for a bit after that, glancing between both men, feeling helpless and slightly foolish standing twenty feet behind them holding a sword which I had no idea how to use.

I realised both creatures were down, when Tomas spun, a look of horror on his face. He shouted, but I didn't hear it - I suddenly knew exactly what that expression meant. There were darkspawn behind me. _I hope they find someone who can use that dress_. I gave Tomas and Theron one last look, and turned, raising my sword in front of me. If I was going to die, I'd at least go down flailing about ineffectually.

There were three hurlocks charging towards me, and they were close enough that there was absolutely no way for either man behind me to get there in time. I tightened my grip on the sword, holding it out away from me; a scream died on my lips as one after the other, the darkspawn completely ignored me. They flowed around me, barely stepping to the sides to avoid me, my hair whipped into my face from the sudden wind of their passing. Not one slowed to cut me down as they ran. I spun back around just in time to hear the clash of metal against metal as the creatures engaged my new companions. I stared in shock for just a moment before dashing forward and thrusting my sword into the back of a hurlock raising his axe to carve into Tomas. It turned, its corrupted face registering surprise, and slowly fell. I let go of my sword, and managed to step out of the spray of blood before I got any on me. There was a crash as he collapsed to the ground, followed by a sudden deafening silence.

The three of us stood, panting, staring back and forth at each other, then down at the five corpses on the ground. Suddenly I lurched sideways, leaning over, and retched into a small blackening shrub at my feet. I felt a hand rest on my back, but wiped my mouth cautiously before turning to see Theron looking at me in concern. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and lead me back to the small camp where he and Tomas had obviously slept, assisting me as I slid to the ground, settling beside me with his arm still around me.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so. Everything but my pride, at any rate. And my formerly clean pan...small clothes."

Theron barked a laugh. "At least you can still joke about it!"

"What makes you think I'm joking?" I grumbled, but I shot Theron a small smile.

Tomas crouched in front of me, his look speculative. "The darkspawn ignored you."

"So I didn't just imagine that?" He shook his head, his slight smile never reaching his eyes.

"It was like they didn't know you were there."

"I'm not complaining. I have absolutely no idea why I'm alive right now." He studied my face, finally relenting and leaning back to sit.

"The darkspawn are all gone. I believe we are safe, for the moment. And it appears I owe you my thanks, again. You may not be a fighter at home, but overall I'd say you're managing quite well here."

I blushed, still reeling in shock. I lifted my hand and gave myself a pinch on the thigh, hard, through the denim of my jeans. I flinched in pain. I certainly felt real.

"What was that about?" Theron looked amused.

"Something I learned as a kid. If you think you might be dreaming, and you pinch yourself, you'll wake up. It would seem I've lost my mind, because dreaming just can't explain all of...this." I curled my legs in front of me, wrapped both arms around them, and lowered my head onto my knees. "I think I'll just shake for a while, if you don't mind."

Both men were quiet while I collected myself again. I may have been bored at home, but this world was...perhaps a little too exciting. I briefly prayed for a happy medium. I finally raised my head again.

"So...how long was I gone?"

Tomas had stood up and started pacing nearby, head down in thought. Theron still rubbed my back. "Two days. Duncan…I mean Tomas, was so angry when he came back to camp and discovered you missing. He spent half a day looking for a trail before finally admitting that you must have disappeared into thin air. We stayed there for a bit, wondering if you'd show up again, but finally decided to keep moving, slowly, and hope you'd find us if you came back."

"And I did."

"Did you ever. I just about screamed like a little girl when I woke and saw you lying there. Would have completely ruined my kingly image, though, so I held it in. Tomas had a few interesting curse words when he came back from watch and found you asleep. I swear he thinks you're doing it on purpose just to make him crazy."

I laughed, shakily, the tension slowly leaking out of my shoulders as I relaxed. It was almost like...almost like talking to Alistair at the party camp in the game. I wondered what other similarities the brothers shared, and then blushed furiously as my mind followed that thought a bit too far.

"I'm sorry I startled you."

"Thank you for not saying 'scared'." We both laughed, and I finally jumped to my feet, walking over to Tomas.

"May I ask what you were doing for the last couple of days, my Lady?"

I sighed. "Sierra, remember? Not a lady. Just ask my last foster mother. Anyway, I got cleaned up, got a dress made, got some coin that might actually be useable here, and tried to find out if I had any way to nail down the timeline more specifically. Which I don't." I handed Tomas a couple of handfuls of coin, and he nodded appreciatively before hiding it away in a pouch he pulled from somewhere. _The guy reminds me of descriptions of Zevran. Pockets and hiding places everywhere. _I also showed him the razor. He grimaced.

"I noticed the dress. You wear it over the rest of your..." Tomas looked down at my boots, jeans, and jacket strangely. "...outfit?"

"I figured that I'd be sort of noticeable, dressed like this. You both said I act like a noble, so I got a dress that I thought perhaps a noblewoman might wear. But if you think I'm wandering around here with just a dress on, you've got another thing coming. So I made sure the dress would fit over my clothes."

"I must apologise, Sierra. I keep confusing absence of experience for absence of intelligence. I'm quite impressed. The dress will draw some attention, especially away from the busier towns, but less than that costume."

I giggled. I couldn't help it. _He thinks my jeans are the costume_. I took a deep breath. "So...what now?"

"We are likely about a day's walk from Lothering. I thought perhaps we could walk rather slowly, and hope the others will catch up to us on the road. If you don't object, I thought I'd get you to tell us a little bit more about this...performance you told us about. And at camp tonight...maybe we can talk about how to use this a little bit." He handed me back my sword, after wiping it off on the grass carefully. I took it, squaring my shoulders, and started walking.

"That bastard!" Swore Theron, as we walked together towards Lothering. "He uses an apostate blood mage to poison Eamon? I'll have his head. I'll cut it off myself." He continued ranting, pulling slightly ahead, and Tomas and I shared bemused looks. Listening to what was happening to Ferelden after the King's supposed death was really getting to him, and so far I'd only described Redcliffe. I hoped that maybe hearing about it would help him mature a bit. Between the game's portrayal and his behaviour since we'd met, I had decided that perhaps the King needed to Grow Up before being allowed to rule a country. And maybe he'd finally listen to reason about needing an heir. I had no interest in keeping Anora on the throne for my own reasons, but regardless of his feelings or mine, the fact was that Ferelden needed a Royal Baby, and fast.

And the truth was, as we walked, I could feel Theron's interest in me intensifying, and I suddenly wondered if he thought I'd be a suitable mother for said baby. He kept touching me, innocently on the shoulder or hand, when he made a joke or to get my attention to show me something, and every time I saw Tomas watching, his concerned expression suddenly covered by that indifferent mask he used to hide his thoughts. It wasn't normal for people to touch this much in Ferelden, I was quite certain. Especially not if those people were the very married King and an unknown, possibly insane resident of somewhere other than Thedas. And truly, while he seemed like a nice guy overall, he was also arrogant, egotistical, unrealistic, and immature, and I certainly didn't return his level of interest. I had no desire to be the King's mistress, or God forbid, the Queen, even if I did somehow manage to stay in Ferelden forever. I'd never been in such an awkward situation before. Back at home I was considered unattractive. Fighting off interested males wasn't part of my repertoire.

I contemplated Tomas for a minute. He certainly had never indicated any interest in me as a woman, and as I thought about it, nothing in the game or the books indicated he'd ever had any interest in women in general. In fact, wasn't Tomas practically the only one not getting laid in 'The Calling' when he was in the Deep Roads with Maric? I worried about the plan that formed in my head a bit, but frankly I worried about Theron more. I took a deep breath and strode over to take Tomas' arm, forcing him to shorten his stride a little bit or pull away rudely. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at me, and I caught his gaze, deliberately glancing over at Theron, then back to where my arm wrapped around his, before searching his face again. He followed my gaze, then - as he met my eyes again - comprehension and something that looked like approval flashed across his face. He patted my fingers, and allowed me to continue to walk with him while Theron stomped along in front of us.

Not long after, we found a decent campsite and another convenient stream, and decided to stop for the night. I washed my hands and face with the soap in the stream, gasping as the cold water trickled down my neck. Tomas, watching me, reached over to touch one of the drops as it fell, and I smiled up at him and took his hand to climb back to my feet. I made another small fire, lighting it with ease using the Zippo, and Tomas again stepped out to 'scout'. I figured he'd be back with another small animal of some sort, so I set Theron to gathering wood while I fashioned a spit as I'd seen Tomas do before.

I was right, and Tomas returned with two small birds dangling from a rope. I assumed they were something like pheasant, and supposed that as long as someone else plucked them, I might even be able to eat them. Tomas indeed did the plucking when he saw me pale a little bit when he offered them to me, and I was able to set them up over the fire once he was done. He smiled his thanks and I grinned in return. I caught an irritated look on Theron's face as he watched us, and I suppressed a laugh. _When you're pretty, boys are so easy!_

Theron settled by the fire, but Tomas hauled me to my feet once more and handed me my sword. Standing in front of me, he started telling me where to put my feet if I wanted to hit something with said weapon. He demonstrated and I tried to copy him, and I started to realise that when not surging with adrenaline, swords are heavy. Clearly I was going to need more upper body strength. Joy. I distracted myself, thinking about that for a moment, and Tomas swept his foot out in an arc that caught my ankle and tumbled me to the ground. I landed on my ass, unhurt, my sword flying out of my hand to tumble across the grass. I swore at him, but he helped me up and lectured me a bit on paying attention to my surroundings, my feet, and my opponent. Embarrassed, I picked up the heavy blade, and tried again. We didn't spar or even practice swinging the weapons we held; we just held them up, and slowly moved around, me learning how to step carefully on uneven ground without looking down, him trying to trip me at every opportunity. By the time the fowl was cooked, I was bruised, sore, and exhausted. Both Tomas and Theron laughed at me as I gingerly eased down onto an uninjured part of my butt.

"I hate you both. You know that, right?"

"You're actually doing quite well for an adult who's never trained before, Sierra. I know I'm being mean, but unfortunately, it's the only way for you to learn how to split your attention between your environment and your opponent. I'm impressed you managed to avoid being knocked over at all. We will make a fighter out of you yet." He smiled at me, and I wondered if this look was genuine or just part of the farce I knew he'd agreed to for Theron's sake. I blushed and smiled back, for once thanking my pasty complexion for its easy pinkness. Theron tried to cover another dirty look with a yawn.

Tomas stripped the meat off the bones of the birds, sharing it out between us. I insisted he and Theron take a larger share, since they'd be doing most of the fighting, and I knew Tomas' metabolism was going to leave him hungry no matter what. If I closed my eyes, it tasted just like roast chicken, and it was delicious.

Tomas informed us he'd take watch overnight, but I shook my head.

"When did you last sleep, Tomas?" I'd certainly noted the dark smudges under his eyes.

"Um..."

"Let me guess. Ostagar?" He nodded sheepishly. "You need some rest. Let me take the watch."

"And how will you sense darkspawn?"

"Well, let me see. Do you sense any now?" He shook his head. "And I'm assuming they can't just creep close enough to kill us in a few minutes? How far away do they have to be for you not to feel them?"

"A couple of hours, at least."

"Alright, well, then I'll watch for a couple of hours. Then I promise to wake you, and if you don't sense anything, you can go back to sleep again."

"And if you disappear in the middle of the night again?" Hmm. _Damn_. Oh wait -

"What if I hold your arm up, like this. Will you be able to sleep?" I held his arm up a bit. He nodded. "Well, then, if I disappear, your arm will fall, and you'll wake up." He looked at me intently, and I met his gaze with all the stubbornness I'd picked up in the foster system. He finally nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. Besides, honestly, with how sore my butt is, I won't be able to sleep anyway. I might as well do something useful if I'm going to be awake regardless."

Theron laughed. "What's a butt?"

"Oh, uh...you know. Behind. Rear quarters. Ass. Whatever you wanna call it." My face was scarlet, and both Theron and Tomas laughed. Tomas showed me how to tell the passage of time by the moon, and I agreed to wake him once it touched a certain tree branch.

Both men settled down to sleep near the fire. I propped Tomas' arm up on my lap, facing out from the fire to have some sort of night vision. It left me sitting practically in his embrace, and I felt almost as awkward as when I woke in Cailan's lap. I sighed, and felt Tomas squeeze my hand once, gently, as if he knew what I was thinking. I tried to be quiet and still, and soon heard two sets of soft snores.

Sitting watch, it turned out, is incredibly boring, if nothing happens. At first my frantic thoughts kept me alert enough, as did the warm body curled around me on the ground. But after a while, I had to stop thinking or else go mad, and I guess I got used to the warmth of Tomas' body. I stared up at the night sky, trying to pick out constellations. My familiar ones, Cassiopeia, Orion, and the Big Dipper, were nowhere to be found. I spent some time imagining other things in the shapes of the stars, but I'd never really been much of a visual person.

I woke Tomas at the appointed time. He didn't sense any darkspawn, so after I crept into the bushes to relieve myself, we settled into the same position again.

My ass really did hurt, and I spent a while simply concentrating on holding still despite the pain, then a while longer contemplating the posture and footwork I'd been learning before supper. I'd never been graceful growing up, and while this body seemed better balanced than mine at home, I still didn't feel very light on my feet. If I was honest, I also really didn't want to be learning how to swing a sword. I wasn't a fighter, never even considered military service; most of the time someone having a nose bleed made me nauseous. I didn't really want to stab things with the pointy end of any sort of weapon. I suddenly really, really missed my safe office, my reliable desk and my meagre view from a tiny window at my former employer's place of business. _An unemployed business consultant has no place in the middle of a Blight in bloody Ferelden!_

By the time the first light of dawn was in the sky, I found myself drifting off, my head sagging down to my chest then springing back up hurriedly. I unzipped my jacket to see if the cold would help, I pinched myself repeatedly, but I couldn't stay awake any longer despite all the discomfort. The next time my head bobbed, I dropped Tomas' arm. He startled awake, and I apologised. Seeing me struggle to keep my eyes open, he took over watch. He told me it was rare he slept more than four hours in a night, so he assured me he felt rested. He crept a bit further away, and I tried to lie down and sleep. Once I was actually allowed, however, sleep wouldn't come.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the surprised look on the hurlock's face as I stabbed it, and I startled myself awake again. Finally, seeing me twitch for the twentieth time, Tomas moved back closer to me, sitting so I could feel his warmth against my back, and squeezed my hand. It worked, and I fell fast asleep before he could even let go.

* * *

A/N:

I don't own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Many thanks again to Kira Tamarion, Rhia474, and Bookwyrm76 for their invaluable editing help.

Answers to review questions:

The story I mentioned but couldn't think of the name of, is the Middle of Nowhere by Wyolake. Thanks to those people who reminded me.

Great Northern One: The Hawke family? Maybe. I have some ideas of things that may have changed for them from the original canon, but I have to admit to having less affection for DA2 than for Origins, so it depends if my attention span lasts that long. I'll try.

Shinkansen: Big review. Some of which I agree with, as you will see in upcoming chapters. I'm not offended, but I think you're jumping ahead in some places and making some assumptions that aren't proven one way or the other. Let me see...1. Cailan was indeed talking with Orlais. It might be a bad idea. Loghain clearly thought so. That said, personally I think a blight is a bigger deal than an occupation, so I'm not willing to write off the idea that an alliance might be a decent plan. Depends on the attitude of Celene, I suppose, which wasn't ever fully apparent in game. Either way, it isn't Loghain's call, and killing your king because you don't like his plans for peace with a neighbouring country is still treason, whether he was right or wrong to forge the alliance. As far as Anora being potentially able to remain ruling monarch after Cailan's death - it is indeed possible to do just that in game. So while I think it's a terrible idea, clearly it's not impossible in Ferelden politics, so it's not unreasonable for Cailan to assume that is what would happen. Especially if he did not know about any other possible Theirin heir. I agree it was completely idiotic for Cailan to put himself in the vanguard of the army, and you'll see that Sierra agrees as well. 2. That interview with Gaider indicated that originally the plan was for Cailan to put Anora aside, but those parts got cut from the game and it was left deliberately vague. Thus Cailan's waffling about whether he would put her aside. All indications are that while the marriage was political, it was at least vaguely based on affection and friendship, much like I imagine Rowan and Maric's was. 3. You're right that a king who was trained in how to rule would be much better than one who wasn't. Unfortunately Ferelden hasn't had one of those in generations. Maric was practically raised in a barn, trained only in fighting Orlesians, if you read Stolen Throne, and I very much doubt that Cailan was a good student in learning monarchy-related skills, which is why he left the actual ruling to Anora. Who was never trained either, let me add - she was raised by servants and Loghain himself who was born a commoner and never even ruled Gwaren properly, instead leaving that job to a seneschal. Fortunately Anora is smart, and figured it out without the proper training. So frankly, Alistair can't be worse at it than Cailan, and because of his devotion to duty, would likely be quite a bit better than Cailan alone. 4. There's debate on how Weisshaupt is dealing with the Calling issues - but one thing is certain, they definitely haven't arranged for a better option for female wardens than going into the deep roads. Which is at least negligent, if not outright trying to cover up the problem. I choose covering it up. It's a more fun story, and maybe I'm paranoid :) 5. You'll notice the things I blamed Loghain for were abandoning Cailan, poisoning Eamon, selling elves to slavery, putting a bounty on Grey Wardens, allowing the Crows to be hired to assassinate the remaining Wardens, and encouraging Uldred - all of which he did. Howe did the torturing, but frankly, if you give someone your authority and allow them to act, you are responsible for what they do. So Loghain may not have turned the crank on the rack, but he either didn't bother to check or didn't care that Howe was. He needed Howe, and he let the snake perpetrate whatever sick acts he felt like to maintain that alliance.

That said - I think there's redemption to be had for Loghain, and while he will pay for his evil and stupidity, he isn't all bad. Hopefully it will work out in the end.


	7. Unintended Consequences

**Chapter Seven: Unintended Consequences**

When I woke, that comforting presence was gone, and I wondered if I would be at home when I opened my eyes, but then I heard low voices, Tomas and Theron whispering in anger. I couldn't hear what they said, until Theron hissed the word "fine", and then I heard him storm off, stomping and muttering under his breath. I waited until I couldn't hear him anymore, preparing to get up, but then I heard Tomas chuckle close behind me.

"You can open your eyes now, Sierra. He's gone."

I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and smiled at Tomas ruefully. "Was that about me? I hope that I haven't stirred up any trouble, Tomas."

"Yes, I'm afraid it was about you. And don't worry, I will manage Theron. I admit that I'm relieved that you have so much common sense, Sierra."

"It doesn't take much common sense to realise that I don't want to be a mistress, can't be his wife, and that I would never survive the political shitstorm of trying to be either one. I don't exactly relish the idea of mothering the royal bastard, either."

"I think you'd be surprised, my lady," he replied drily, and we both smirked, "at exactly how many women, even among the nobility, would give their entire family fortune for the opportunity to try. However, I also suspect that it makes it easier to turn down the charming, handsome King of Ferelden when one's heart is...already spoken for. Yes?"

I looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes, frantically trying to think up convincing ways to deny it. _Why did I have to be so damned keen to show off my knowledge of Alistair?_ He brushed my hair out of my face, and I couldn't help but look at him. He was smiling down at me kindly, and didn't appear to be angry or offended. I felt my face crumple, and finally just nodded. I was entirely aware of how inappropriate my feelings were for a man I'd not even met yet, and how bad an idea it would be for me to even try to begin that relationship. Tomas watched the emotions pass across my face. He leaned forward, his face inches from mine, and whispered.

"For what's it's worth, you have my blessing." While I stared, mouth falling open in shock, Tomas winked at me and then bounded to his feet.

"Wake up, Sierra! We can't have you sleeping away the whole day." He called loud enough that Theron, from somewhere nearby, came crashing back into camp. I glared at Tomas, then tried to plaster a sleepy-confused expression on my face before Theron made it back into camp.

"Good morning, Theron," I called as he came within sight. He scowled, reminding me of nothing so much as a sulky child, but then managed to wipe the expression off his face and come over to sit by me. Tomas crouched in front of us, pointedly ignoring the fact that Theron practically sat with his knee touching mine. I mentally rolled my eyes.

"I thought that today we should perhaps scout into Lothering and see what is happening there, maybe make sure we haven't missed Alistair and Aedan on the way here. From what Sierra has said, I don't think we should stay in town," I shook my head in confirmation, "but we need some information."

"I should go." I cut him off before he could say any more. He opened his mouth to object, but I raised my hand to silence him. "You two may look slightly different with your fancy new haircuts, but the fact is, you're both supposed to be dead and we can't afford for rumours of either of you to circulate and get back to Loghain. And there are some of his men already in town, harassing the townsfolk and looking for Alistair and Aedan. No one in Ferelden knows me, and I can go there without being recognised. There are enough templars remaining at the Chantry that I shouldn't have to fear for my safety, and it should be days at least before the darkspawn swarm this place. I'll find out what I can, maybe see if I can buy some food, and come back." The men looked at each other, both obviously reluctant to go but knowing I was right. "The only concern is if I disappear again while I'm there. So I propose that I head into town, you guys wait until tonight, and if I don't come back you can try to sneak in tomorrow." They both finally nodded.

"I'll get cleaned up and then put on my fancy new dress. The only other thing, is, well... I'm going to have to act like a noblewoman, until I can get some suitable common clothing at least. I need a name of some minor, unknown noble I can claim to be related to if anyone asks. The daughter of a younger son, something like that. Somewhere to say I'm from. It has to be small enough that no one in Lothering is likely to ever have been there. Theron, do you have any ideas?"

"Let me think while you wash up."

I headed to the stream, washing my hands and face thoroughly and wetting my hair so I could put it up in an updo. _Thank God for hair that stays braided without elastics!_ It was difficult with such a small mirror and only a comb, but I was finally satisfied that it would stay. I changed my underpants, washing out the dirty pair in the stream with the soap, and tucking them, still damp, into the pack. I hoped neither Tomas nor Theron went looking through that pocket! It was warm enough that I took off my bulky jacket, and slipped the dress on over just my t-shirt. It looked far less rumpled that way, and I was again impressed at the tailor I'd found. Even though the dress was designed for a larger body, the way it hung, meant to cover layered clothing, meant you couldn't tell. Lastly I added the cloak, leaving the hood back for now.

The looks on both men's faces were priceless when I wandered back into the clearing, forcing myself to stride purposefully, keep good posture, and ever so slightly keep my nose in the air. Clearly neither thought I could pull off looking like a noblewoman, and my anxiety eased slightly as I thought that just maybe I could fool everyone into believing. Tomas handed me two pouches with coin, and glancing inside, I immediately understood. One was virtually empty, holding only a couple of silver coins and half a dozen copper ones. I was grateful to see they were actual Fereldan currency, not my Roman stuff. The other pouch was fuller, and I laughed as Theron looked on in amazement as I tucked it securely down the neck of my dress, into my bra. If anyone tried to rob me, they'd think the small pouch was all I had, and most of the coin would be safe. Tomas smiled in approval as he watched me. I left the sword, though I kept the dagger firmly tied to my thigh, invisible under the dress.

Theron gave me a back-story. He told me about a minor noble, a Lord William of Wentwater, in the far north, whose land was very isolated on the coast several days outside of Amaranthine. He'd married a young commoner from the Free Marches in his later years, after his wife and son died, and then been widowed again when she died in childbirth. He was rarely seen, refusing to come to the Landsmeet and other events, and apparently had two daughters, about my age, neither of whom he let leave the castle. Of course this spurred a lot of rumours that he was bedding his own girls, but Theron suspected the truth was he was senile and kept his daughters close as nursemaids. No one had reported seeing them in years, and he couldn't even remember their names, so we decided I should stick with my own. I could claim to be running away from home, heading to Redcliffe, and that would explain my presence in Lothering. I fixed the details in my mind, and then Tomas escorted me to within a couple of miles of town.

Nervous, I headed toward Lothering alone. After a few minutes I came around a bend on the Imperial Highway and stopped, startled. There were no bandits on the road, and I turned onto the ramp leading down into Lothering. In place of the ramshackle refugee camp outside of town that I expected, there was a sea of tents, aligned with military precision, and the area was swarming with soldiers. Some were practicing on hastily roped-off training grounds, some were marching in small units of about a dozen men, hurrying off to do...something. Others were lounging around, polishing and repairing armour, eating, or sitting in small groups just talking. There were women bustling around, carrying things, cooking over small fires, hanging laundry in the sun, and generally doing the day-to-day things that were needed to feed and care for that many men.

Despite the apparent discipline within the camp, a sombre mood hung over the whole area. All the voices seemed to be hushed whispers, with the exception of the leaders calling out orders. The only loud noises were the clang of practice swords on shields, and the tromping of feet. There were guards posted regularly around the edge of the camp, all of them alert and grim. I noted an area, slightly separated from the rest of the camp, which must have been an infirmary, overflowing with men. These men had seen battle, I surmised, and some hadn't survived. _The missing troops from Ostagar!_

I skirted the edge of the camp, not anxious to get close to whichever nobleman was leading this army. My story wouldn't hold up if anyone knew of Lord William. I tried to blend into a group of refugees, avoiding the soldiers and trudging towards the town proper. I pulled up the hood on my cloak, hiding my fancy hairdo, and made it to the edge of town without being stopped. Lothering was much larger than the game had implied, unsurprisingly. However, the Chantry was visible from the gate where I entered, and I headed in that direction, hoping for information.

There were soldiers all over the town. Some marched in groups, and I wondered if they were meant as guards. Other walked casually, clearly not on duty, talking and heading in and out of shops. I avoided eye contact, and kept moving towards the building that strongly resembled a church. Instead of a cross there was the eye and starburst thing I remembered from the game, but otherwise it looked like any rural church from home.

I found a templar on guard outside the Chantry, and approached him nervously. I pulled my hood back to show my face, but not enough to show my hair or allow anyone else to get a good look at me. He looked curiously down at my dress, then offered a slight bow of his head.

"My Lady? How may I assist you?"

I asked about the soldiers, and he informed me that they were the remnants of the men commanded by Arl Bryland at Ostagar. The name was familiar, though I couldn't place it, and I filed that away for later. The Arl himself wasn't with the men, having left in a hurry for Denerim, leaving an underling in command. He volunteered that the soldiers had orders to keep the peace in Lothering and assist with evacuating the entire town over the next few days. He knew that the men had come from Ostagar, and had heard conflicting rumours about what had happened there. Some said the Grey Wardens had betrayed the King, but others heard that Loghain had run away in fear. Everyone agreed the King and all of the Grey Wardens were dead. There had apparently been a couple of bar-room brawls between some random travelers and a handful of Bryland's men, and I wondered if the would-be assassins in the tavern where I recalled meeting Leliana had been chased off. If they had, I figured I should probably try to find Leliana, because I didn't know where she would end up meeting Alistair and Aedan if not during that fight.

I asked about the evacuation efforts, and he admitted that without Bryland's men, they'd never have been able to manage. As it was, he thought that they just might be able to get everyone out, but everyone was worried it would take too long. He hoped that it didn't come down to combat with the horde while refugees were fleeing for their lives. He seemed frustrated at standing uselessly in front of the Chantry instead of doing something to help. I was completely sympathetic.

I asked where I might get food. He told me that twice a day, the soldiers handed out rations to refugees in the common area, in front of the tavern. I asked if there was any way to buy some, and he suggested I talk to whoever was in charge over by the wagons. He pointed out the merchants in the immediate area, adding that the army had either bought or commandeered all the food they had, but left the rest of the gear for the merchants to sell.

I asked him about Sister Leliana, and he gave me a surprised look. He told me she was likely inside the Chantry somewhere helping out the Revered Mother. I thanked him for all the information, and headed to a nearby merchant. I managed to buy a couple of sturdy packs, a cook pot, some bowls and spoons, and a two extra water skins for a couple of the silver coins in my pouch. The merchant looked far too pleased, and I realised that I'd probably paid far too much for them, but without any idea of how much things were actually worth, I couldn't haggle effectively. I stuffed my prizes into one of the packs and headed into the Chantry.

I immediately heard that voice I knew so well from hours in front of my PC. I looked around, easily locating the source. The slim redhead was near the altar, directing a couple of refugees in placing cots and bedrolls in a small space cleared of benches. She looked exactly like she did in the game, shoulder-length hair with a small, neat braid. Her French (or I supposed, Orlesian) accent was thick, but coming from a bilingual country, I had no difficulty understanding her. I didn't speak the language, but was used to hearing my language spoken in a French accent. Some of the men seemed to be having trouble though, as one moved one way, one another, and they lost control of the cot they were lifting. Leliana darted around them, her robes unable to hide the grace and speed of her movements, and caught the edge of the cot before it crashed to the ground. Settling it gently to the floor, she smiled at both men in thanks and they shuffled off.

I approached her uncertainly, suddenly unable to think of anything to say to her. When she glanced up and saw me, she went unnaturally still, face pale as she studied mine. She glanced about, and I saw fear on her face. _Oh God, she thinks I'm one of Marjolaine's hirelings_. I slowly raised both hands, keeping them still and visible, hoping I could keep her calm before something ugly happened.

"Can we talk? Somewhere private? I swear I am not here to hurt you." She studied my eyes for a moment, and then nodded, turning to lead me down a back hallway and out into a small garden behind the main building. She stayed standing, her posture stiff, and I guessed she had a dagger palmed in each tense hand. I kept my hands visible, put my back to the wall of the building, and sank down to sit carefully on the grass. I stayed silent, waiting for her to speak first.

"I...know you. You were in Orlais. When I was young, still living with Lady Cecilie. But...you look the same. Exactly the same. How is this possible?"

I blinked. She didn't think I was sent by Marjolaine. She...saw me, when I had dreamt of her youth. I hoped that meant she was less likely to kill me on principle.

"You do like to start with the hard questions, don't you?" _Oh boy_. "Listen, I can't tell you the whole story right now. It wasn't me you saw, not really. It was magic, somehow. I don't exactly understand it, but I wasn't really there." I shook my head, unsure of how to explain it. I tried to change the subject.

"I'm here, now, because of the Blight. I know about your vision, Leliana. The darkness, falling. The rose that bloomed on the dead rosebush. But...somehow I changed how things were supposed to happen. That army isn't supposed to be out there - they weren't supposed to survive. You were supposed to meet the last two remaining Grey Wardens and aid them during a brawl in the tavern - but now that brawl might not happen. I'm afraid that the changes mean you won't end up finding the Wardens, and I know they will need your help if they are to end the Blight. I know it's asking for a big leap of faith, but I'm hoping that you will consent to come with me so I can make sure you find the Wardens you were meant to aid."

I rambled to a stop, suddenly aware that I probably wasn't making any sense. I watched the beautiful bard's face, and realised she was much, much better than Duncan at hiding her thoughts.

"How do you know about my vision? How do you know what I was, or was not, meant to do?" She still looked so tense. _I hope I don't get to find out what the pointy end of a dagger feels like anytime soon._

"The only answer I can give you right now is magic. There is more to it - isn't there always - but I simply don't have time, right now, to explain it all. I will, I promise, just not right now. Look, there are others with me. I left them outside town, and they are waiting for me. I was supposed to try to buy some food, get some information, and then return to them. I would like to request that you come with me to meet them. If you choose not to stay, after that, you're free to walk away. I give you my word. I will give you my weapon; I'll let you search me, so you know I'm not going to try to harm you. I warn you that my companions are armed, but they will not harm you either. I swear it." She studied my face intently for a while, and I raised the skirt of my dress to remove the dagger I had hiding there, tossing it on the ground at her feet while I waited.

"You are no Fereldan noblewoman."

"You have absolutely no idea how correct you are. I just hope that, for the sake of getting out of town unscathed, I can pretend that I am for a few more minutes." Finally, she nodded. Picking up the dagger, she offered it to me hilt first. I tied it back to my leg, and then took her hand and let her pull me up.

"I shall help you get past the soldiers and back to your friends. I promise nothing more until you explain."

"Fair enough," I agreed, sighing in relief. I realised I'd been holding my breath while I waited on her decision. "Is there any way you could also help me purchase some food? I just want a few days' worth of rations for my companions."

"I know the Sister in charge of helping to distribute the food the army has been providing the refugees. Let's go and see what we can do."

Leliana walked with me across the small footbridge to reach the open square. It was full of people, most looking ragged, despondent, and exhausted. In the centre there stood a small knot of soldiers surrounding one elderly Chantry sister. The crowd parted at the sight of Leliana's robes, allowing us through. She motioned for me to stop a few feet from the group, and she slipped between the armed men to reach the other woman. They whispered briefly, and I saw Leliana squeeze her hand, nod, and slip back out. Whether it was the robes or Leliana's skill, I wasn't sure the soldiers had even really recognised her presence.

"We have to talk to the quartermaster over in the army camp. If we're unlucky, we will have to talk to the lieutenant. I need to know your cover story if I'm to be able to help you. You do have one, I hope?"

She murmured this in my ear, and I responded in kind as we walked through town.

"I'm Lady Sierra of Wentwater. My father is Lord William. I am on the run from home - I've been kept in that castle since I was a little girl, never allowed friends or suitors, and I'm going to go mad if I stay. I have an ...uh, acquaintance, who's gone to Redcliffe to be a guard, and I'm going there to be with him. I'm trying to travel without drawing much attention, because if my father catches me I'll never see the light of day again."

Leliana laughed, twining her arm through mine to keep me close to her as we walked. "And is any of that true?"

"Well, there _is_ a Lord William of Wentwater. And he does have daughters who he never lets out, apparently. But the rest? Not so much."

We arrived at the edge of the army camp, and Leliana led me through the maze of tents and people with finesse. We found the quartermaster, who started shouting the moment she opened her mouth and said the word food. Backing away as he muttered curses under his breath, we exchanged a look and turned to head toward the command tent.

Eyeing Leliana's Chantry robes, or maybe just eyeing Leliana, one of the guards outside stepped in to see if the lieutenant would see us. We heard a barked "Come!", and she dragged me into the large tent as the guard saluted and went back outside.

The lieutenant was a tall, handsome man with the exception of a large, angry, poorly healing scar across his face from forehead, across the bridge of his nose, and down to his cheek. He seemed uncomfortable with it, one hand straying up to touch the edges that were the most raised and irritated. Leliana immediately exclaimed, bearing down on him like...well, like a priest I suppose, pushing him down to kneel while she inspected the damage. She tsk'd at him for not coming sooner for healing, and pulled out a small vial of red fluid - a health poultice - from a pocket in her robes. She dribbled some of the fluid onto a thin strip of cloth, and proceeded to dab at the length of the cut. He tried to stop her, but she was relentless and I had to admire her no-nonsense attitude. In short order, the laceration was closed, the puckered and reddened skin edges fading as I watched. Soon the scar looked several years old, just a thin white line across his handsome face.

"Now, are there many others with unhealed wounds like this?" She demanded.

The poor lieutenant under scrutiny climbed to his feet, his face red from embarrassment as he shook his head. Leliana stroked his cheek with a smile, and the irritation faded, and suddenly I knew we would get anything she asked for. _She's good!_

I watched, impressed, as she pled with him to buy rations for me, weaving a much more romantic tale of my flight from my oppressive father and my dashing betrothed than I'd been able to muster. I don't think he heard a word of it, but when he'd determined all she wanted was to pay for some rations, he agreed immediately. He thanked her, of all things, kissed her hand, bowed slightly to me, and asked the guard to take us back to the quartermaster and tell him to sell us the food.

The guard thanked Leliana profusely for taking care of the lieutenant's injury; apparently he'd insisted everyone else get healed, but wouldn't accept it himself deeming his wound cosmetic and therefore unimportant. It seemed the lieutenant was well liked, and I could see why. Leliana took my two remaining silver coins from the small purse in my cloak pocket, and haggled with the quartermaster for rations to feed us for several days, even once Aedan and company caught up to us. I unfolded the second pack I'd bought, and Leliana carried it as we left the army camp.

* * *

A/N:

Many thanks to Kira Tamarion, Bookwyrm86, and Rhia474 for their amazing help as beta readers.

Please keep the reviews coming - they're what gives me the motivation to keep writing!

As always, I don't own Dragon Age - I just play here.

Notes on reviews:

Guest and Nikaeris - I'm working on it! I expect to post one chapter a week. I'm trying to keep ahead of the posting schedule, and allow my betas time to help out...also trying to avoid reposting stuff when I realise I've messed things up or forgotten things ten chapters later.

Clafount: You rock. I love the reviews, as always. I need to be more like you and review more. I'll try. I'm enjoying writing Cailan and Duncan, though it's a lot harder when they didn't really get a 'voice' in the game that much. I have to make it up but still keep it realistic for them. I like the challenge - smack me if I go too far off course, would you? Sierra is a Canadian, as am I. The spelling should give it away, eh, neighbour? :)


	8. Mabari Endorsement

**Chapter Eight: Mabari Endorsement**

Once we got to the Imperial Highway, I lead, chatting with Leliana as we walked. I told her about Tomas and Theron, reminding myself to be even more careful with their aliases than I already was being. I explained that we were survivors from Ostagar waiting to meet up with three others, including two Grey Wardens -_ I think the existence of a third Grey Warden should remain a secret for now_ - and that we had a plan to defeat the Blight.

"So, two Grey Wardens, two warriors, and a mage. And what skills do you bring to the group, may I ask?" I opened my mouth to admit that I really didn't have any skills, just as Theron stepped onto the path from the trees.

"She's the brains. At least, I'm hoping she is, because we keep following her advice." Theron grinned, Leliana laughed, and I blushed. I stammered out introductions, and Theron held his arm out, I think expecting me to take it. I surreptitiously pushed Leliana forward, feeling only slightly guilty for throwing her under the bus, but she gamely took the proffered arm and Theron couldn't refuse without being rude. I tried not to smirk.

We walked into the trees a little ways, and Theron opened his mouth to talk just as I heard laughter, and shouting, the bark of a large dog, and that voice...that distinctive voice that I knew so well, from my own fantasies as well as the game.

"Theron! You didn't tell me they'd arrived!" I rushed forward, suddenly optimistically eager to see my fantasy brother and my fantasy man, and burst into the clearing where I'd built the fire the night before.

First I saw a brown blur, as a growling canine creature came running at me across the camp. I had one second to see Alistair's face - _well, that's unfair, he's even better looking in real life_ - before I saw bared teeth, heard someone shout, and nearly soiled myself. _Mabari are huge!_ The hound rushed up to me, stopping just short of bowling me over, looked up at me and sniffed in my direction, turned around to face towards the camp it had come from, and sat on my foot. My vocal cords finally caught up with the rest of me, and I squawked in a combination of fear and discomfort as my foot was squished by about a hundred pounds of dog butt. The crazy animal turned his head, licked my hand, and woofed happily, then returned to looking across the camp from his perch.

Everyone stopped to stare. Theron and Tomas, Morrigan and Alistair, Aedan and even Leliana. In the game, it implied Mabari were one-person dogs. They imprinted for life. They didn't like anyone else until they were proven to be looking out for their master, and even then it was conditional upon good behaviour. I had absolutely no idea what to do with the overgrown critter deciding he owned me, when I was sure Aedan belonged to him first.

I gently extracted my foot from his hind end, trying to ignore everyone watching me as I hunkered down beside him. I realised I didn't even know his name. I held my hand out near him but not reaching towards him, palm up, fingers extended. It was all I could think of to be non-threatening. He looked over at me, hung his tongue out of the side of his mouth in a goofy smile, and then rested his snout in my hand. I cautiously scratched under his chin, and he wagged his tail and chuffed. I slowly brought my other hand over to pat his head, and ended up scratching behind one upturned ear. He tilted his head with a pleased whine and closed his eyes.

"Who's a good dog? Yeah. That's right. Good dog. I, um, I don't know your name, fuzzybutt. However, I'm Sierra. Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He opened one eye, only to roll it at me as if to say "Duh."

"Aedan?" I didn't stop watching the mabari, clearly enjoying the attention as I found ticklish spots on his head and down his back. His fur was surprisingly soft, and remarkably clean for the moment. I figured that wouldn't last long but enjoyed it nonetheless.

I heard footsteps approach, and out of the corner of my eye saw a tall, lean, dark-haired man crouch down beside us. "Yes?"

"I'm assuming you belong to this furball. What's his name?"

"Prince."

I laughed.

"What?"

"I used to...dream I had a mabari too. In my dreams I named mine Prince as well." Prince opened his eyes, huffed at me to say "enough talking", and then thoroughly licked my face, making me sputter and curse. Aedan cracked up, but that only lasted until Prince turned to him and repeated the same action, with the same result, and both of us shouting "Prince, no!"

Aedan stood, and offered me a hand. My legs were a bit numb from crouching for so long, and I needed the assist. I finally looked up from the ridiculously self-satisfied dog to find everyone still staring at me, open-mouthed. As I looked from one face to the next, I saw expressions ranging from suspicion and worry on Alistair's handsome face, to a slightly embarrassed, guilty look on Aedan's, to attempted indifference on Morrigan's. It didn't take much to figure out who they'd been talking about before I interrupted their conversation.

I did notice that Alistair had his hand on Tomas' shoulder, and looked like he would never let go. Tomas bore an embarrassed but pleased half-grin, and I knew he was as happy to see the ex-templar as Alistair was to see him. Alistair and Aedan were both liberally coated in gore, and I remembered the darkspawn ambush when the mabari caught up with the party from the game. I tried to be discreet, looking at them both, but couldn't see any obvious injuries. Morrigan, on the other hand, was clean. And somehow dirty at the same time. _Put on some clothes, woman!_

I turned to Aedan, who still held my hand, and converted the assist to a firm handshake.

"Hi. I'm Sierra. You're Aedan. It's nice to meet you." I almost told him I was sorry for the loss of his family, but figured he wouldn't want to hear it from a suspicious stranger. "Leliana? This is Aedan. A Grey Warden. Aedan, Leliana is my...friend." _I hope_. "I told her she had nothing to fear from you and the Grey Wardens."

I left them exchanging greetings after that thinly veiled plea and approached Alistair. Trying to keep in mind that I wasn't his, not in this world, and that he had every reason to think I was either deranged or evil, I kept a vacuous smile on my face, held out my hand, and introduced myself to him. I made eye contact, and felt a bit overwhelmed. He was way more gorgeous than in the game, but they got the expressiveness of his face dead on. And I was right - he was _huge_. It was hard to tell exactly when he was in plate armour, but he towered over me, and I hadn't ever thought of myself as short. His eyebrows quirked up, and despite the obvious emotions passing across his face he tried to smile. My mouth dried out, my tongue glued itself to my palate, and I mumbled my way through introductions to Leliana.

Next was Morrigan. I didn't offer her my hand, but tried to give her a friendly smile. "Hello, Morrigan."

"So. What are you supposed to be, then? Demon? Fade spirit? Another apostate, perhaps?" She was baiting me, trying to see how I'd react. I think. _I'd know if I was a demon, right?_ I kept my cool. I remembered in the game always thinking you could never afford to lose your temper or be overly emotional in front of Morrigan. _Not without paying a price_. I heard Leliana mutter, though the rest of the group seemed unsurprised. Clearly this was what they'd been discussing then.

"Just Sierra, I'm afraid. Quite boring, actually, by comparison to those possibilities!" I heard Alistair snicker, and could picture the look on his face without turning. _This is...surreal_. "I'm pleased to meet you. I wish I could have met your mother, but I didn't know how to find your home in the Wilds. Perhaps one day I will."

"I have never heard of a demon with polite manners. I suppose I'll have to cross that one off the list, shall I?" Without waiting for introductions to Leliana, or any sort of response, she turned and strode off into the bush. After an embarrassed silence, I cleared my throat and turned back to the rest of the group.

"And Leliana, you met Theron already," Alistair twitched in surprise when I said the name, pointing at the individual in question, but Tomas gave him a look and he quieted down, "but this is Tomas." He nodded at her. "Leliana was just telling me that Loghain has set a bounty on the head of any Grey Warden brought in, dead or alive. So you guys," I gestured to Alistair and Aedan, "need to be careful with your identities. It's a good thing your likenesses are not well known." I gave Alistair and Aedan a direct look, each in turn, and saw both men catch on to the silent warning I was trying to give. I was right. Alistair's not dumb. Smarter than Cailan, by far.

"So, we brought some food. Anyone hungry?" I gestured to the pack Leliana still carried, and then turned away from the group to quickly work the coin purse out of my cleavage. I handed both back to Tomas, and he tucked them away somewhere faster than I could blink. _Does he practice doing that?_ Everyone grabbed a bite, and we all ate, awkwardly, silently. I tried to avoid feeling self-conscious despite knowing that practically everyone was either staring at me or studiously avoiding me. Prince wandered over, after begging scraps from pretty much everyone, and settled at my feet. _Oh good, more staring_. I was sort of uncomfortable, and I finally shrugged off my cloak, reached down to grab the hem of my dress, and removed it, just like I had the day before. I heard Alistair sputter until he realised I was fully clothed underneath. It was starting to get dark and chilly. I heard rustling, and Tomas tossed my coat at me after fishing it out of one of the packs. I smiled my thanks and put it on, still aware of the stares. I finally broke the silence.

"So...who'd like to talk? I think we should talk." I grabbed a couple of pieces of wood to toss on the fire, then settled down to sit cross legged. I heard Theron snort and Alistair gasp, and rolled my eyes as I switched to a more ladylike position. _That's going to get old, fast_. Everyone slowly took seats, with the exception of Tomas who paced nearby. I made sure not to sit near Theron. I finally called out, clearly but not loudly, "Morrigan? I won't push it, but I'd love it if you would join us for this. Otherwise everyone will assume you haven't heard it."

I heard some rustling in the bushes, and then her voice as she called back "One moment, please." Tomas jumped, and I grinned. _Shapechanging for the win_. Morrigan emerged from the shadows and gracefully sank onto a rock; nearby, but not part of the circle. _Good enough._

"I'm going to explain to everyone here who I am. Theron and Tomas have heard this story, but it's weird enough that I hope not to bore them with the repetition. As strange as it may seem, I actually trust each and every one of you implicitly. But there is a slight problem. I know you all have secrets, things you don't wish to discuss with strangers, or in this group. I know many of those secrets, and I will explain how that is so in a minute. But I don't wish to reveal secrets that aren't mine to tell. With Tomas and Theron, we discovered it was easier, eventually, to have some discussions one on one. So I'm going to describe who I am, but there are going to be times where you think I'm leaving things out, or being deliberately vague. You'll be right. Because I'll be avoiding telling someone's secret. So please bear with me." I looked around at the strange collection of faces around me, getting at least hesitant nods from each one. _It's a start_. I took a deep breath and began.

I repeated the story I'd told Theron and Tomas. The theatre performance analogy, the window, the sending stone. Watching the events of the Blight unfold through Aedan's eyes. The dizzy spells, the dreams, then waking in the Wilds on the day of the battle. The battle, the fear, and then finding that somehow, Theron and Tomas survived when no one else did. Us leaving Ostagar, walking slowly to allow Alistair, Aedan, and Morrigan to catch up. Me disappearing for two days, out of the middle of camp, with even Tomas, on watch, surprised. Returning just as suddenly in the middle of a fight, and the darkspawn ignoring me. Everyone asked questions, all of them good, most of them I couldn't answer.

And then I repeated the same process with the larger group that I'd gone through with Tomas and Theron. I passed around my boots, my coat, and my map of Thedas. I dragged my safety pins and compass, Swiss army knife and hand flashlight out of Tomas' pack. I flicked the lighter, asked Tomas to show them some of the money I'd given him. At some point Theron stood, wandering around camp, watching the rest of the group watch me.

Morrigan finally stirred, when I was done. She stepped up behind me, and I swivelled to face her.

"May I?" She held out her hand, and I placed mine in it. Suddenly Theron stepped between us, knocking aside her hand.

"I believe her. I saw her just appear out of thin air. She doesn't need to be...tested, by an apostate."

I raised my hand, lightly touching Theron's arm. "It's okay. I'd like to know. If she can tell me anything about how I'm here, what magic this is, then I welcome it." Nudging Theron out of the way, I held my hand out to Morrigan again. "I said I trust you, and I meant it. And Alistair? Please don't smite anyone unless you've confirmed I'm dead. I don't want any misunderstandings." I heard a grumble, but ignored it, still making eye contact with Morrigan. She took my hand, and I felt that familiar crackly aura like when I'd been near the Emissaries while they were casting spells. I resisted the urge to twitch. I felt more than saw a ball of energy leave her and pass into me, and I could almost feel it running through my body, up and down my extremities, giving me butterflies in my stomach, briefly making my head burn, and then it returned back through me to her hand again. I waited with bated breath.

"Human. Definitely not a demon, or an abomination, and I don't feel any sign of mage power. I'm sorry, I've no idea."

"You sound disappointed, Morrigan. Like I said...I'm just boring Sierra." I was rewarded with what looked like an actual smile, for the briefest of moments, before she rose, spun on her heel, and left camp again. I turned back to the circle, making eye contact with Alistair next.

"Your turn."

He jumped as though I'd stung him. "Me?"

"Yes. Smite me, or whatever it is that you do. I want to see if you think I'm a mage. Tomas already wondered if it was possible. I can't imagine it is, but...frankly, stranger things have happened."

"I can't! I won't. It's painful, if I do it that way. Even if you're not a mage."

"But you'd be able to tell?"

"Ye-es, I suppose, but..."

"Please? I need to know, Alistair. I think we all need to know. Tomas knocked me over a bunch of times yesterday, ask him. I can handle a little bit of pain." Alistair and Aedan both turned nasty glares on Tomas, and I laughed. "He was trying to teach me how not to impale myself or drop my sword in combat. It's not his fault I'm clumsy. Please, Alistair?" I'd half bum-shuffled, half crawled over to him by this point, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable as I pleaded with him. I put my hand out, uncertain if he needed physical contact for it to work.

"Well not here, certainly! It'll hurt everyone, and leave Morrigan retching up her guts." He got up, carefully, and I scrambled to my feet as well, following him out twenty feet or so from camp. He turned to look at me, opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Finally his shoulders sagged.

I felt a shockwave hit me. It's the best description I could come up with. It rippled the ground, raising the dust, and rocketed straight through my bones. I was lifted slightly and propelled back a ways, landing on my back in the dirt. I had the breath knocked out of me, and I clutched my chest for a moment before I was able to gasp a breath. I heard footsteps, and then everyone was there standing over me. Alistair looked sick, kneeling beside me, like he'd killed a kitten or something, and I tried my best to look reassuring. Theron bent down, lifting me in his arms, holding me for a moment before I insisted he set me down. I didn't miss the speculative look Aedan gave Theron and me both.

"So? What's the verdict?"

"Definitely not a mage." I was relieved and smiled thankfully at him before turning to walk back to camp. My legs gave out from under me, and Theron caught me again, to my utter dismay. He carried me back to the camp, setting me down near the fire. Tomas moved over beside me to take my hand and ask if I was all right. I squeezed back and nodded. Alistair shouldered Theron out of the way to sit beside me and apologise effusively, and I wondered if he even thought about who he'd just shoved. I didn't miss the daggers Theron directed at Tomas as I continued to hold his hand, though. I got another speculative look from Aedan, and knew I was blushing again. And then he grinned, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, and I choked as a laugh tried to explode out of my sore chest. That triggered yet another round of apologies from Alistair, but fortunately Tomas handed me a water skin so I could clear my throat.

Finally I got my breathing back to normal, and realised we still hadn't discussed what I'd learned in Lothering. I shook my head and launched into it - the presence of Arl Bryland's men, the rumours flying about who betrayed who.

"Bryland? These aren't his lands. The Bann here is Ceorlic. Why are Bryland's men here?"

Leliana cleared her throat softly. "Apparently the Bann withdrew with his men, leaving the common people behind. They didn't even try to help evacuate, and in fact, left a bunch of badly wounded soldiers behind for us to care for. When Arl Bryland marched through, he left part of his army to try to get as many refugees as possible out of Lothering. They've been incredibly effective, and I think that, if the darkspawn hold off for two or three more days, the evacuation will be complete."

"I'm not surprised," offered Aedan. "Bryland is a good man. Ceorlic is a snake."

I mentioned the confirmation that Loghain was hunting for any surviving Grey Wardens. Theron blew his cover multiple times, suggesting that we all just march into town and demand that Bryland's men give us a Royal Escort to get back to Denerim. Leliana's mouth dropped open as she figured out who he really was. Tomas and I argued with him, with even Aedan jumping in a couple of times, but I finally lost my temper.

"His Majesty," I gave him a dirty look, and he winced, "has the ability to command us to do as he wills. However, I suggest that he rethink how much he enjoys having his royal head attached to his royal neck." I stood, pacing. "Loghain has shown that he will do anything, risk everything to ensure your death. Are you so arrogant that you believe you can outsmart him that easily? Do you think he doesn't have agents in every Bann's army, in every town, who will report your existence without a second thought? If you think the bounty on the Grey Wardens is large, imagine how much he would pay to get your head on a platter.

"Whether you like it or not, you don't have the right to go down in a blaze of glory. You're the bloody King. You don't take unnecessary risks with your royal person. You don't trust in the goodwill of the average soldier, you don't announce your presence when someone is trying to have you assassinated, especially someone willing to sacrifice half of Ferelden's armies to make it look accidental. You don't fight on the front lines, you don't face the Archdemon, and you don't ignore the people working their asses off to save your life.

"You haven't seen Ferelden without a clear line of succession. I have. I've seen the civil war, the abuse, the chaos that follows if you die. You don't get to be selfish. You get to stay safe inside the palace, or at the back of the army, out of harm's way, letting your men concentrate on fighting instead of worrying about keeping their King alive. You get to die old and toothless, surrounded by grandchildren. You don't have to enjoy it, but your people deserve it from you.

"Do you understand that I risked dying, willingly put myself into the middle of a battle I knew in advance we couldn't win, just hoping somehow to bring you back from the dead? Me, the business consultant, who'd never even punched someone before, never mind held a sword. Tomas almost died for you. Thousands of men _did_ die for you. Some of the people standing here lost everything in the last few days, for you. Don't you _dare_ make it all for nothing. You don't get that right."

Sometime during my rant I headed towards him, and was now standing directly in front of Theron, mere inches from poking his chest every time I made a point. I suddenly realised what I had done, and, mortified at my own verbal diarrhea, I clapped both hands over my mouth, sobbed once, and then turned and ran off into the darkness around the camp. I heard swearing behind me as I ran, and I dodged between trees and rocks as best I could in the moonlight. I ran for several minutes, stopping only when I tripped on something in the dark and crashed down onto my knees.

I curled up into a ball, shoulders shaking as I cried. I tried not to, hating the tears even as they streamed down my face, but I couldn't make them stop. I heard rustling, and felt a heavy, furry body climb over me to squirm in front of me and lay down. I wrapped my arms around the dog and let his thick fur absorb my tears.

I heard someone calling my name after a few minutes, and realised that I'd recognise that voice anywhere. "I'm here, Alistair," I managed to choke out, and I heard heavy footsteps approach. I heard him settle to the ground behind me, and slowly put his hand out to touch my arm.

"So are you the executioner?" I tried to laugh, but it came out a croak. "Make it quick, please. I'd rather not linger, if it's all the same to you."

Alistair chuckled, softly. "I forgot to bring my axe. You're safe."

"Did you get the short stick, having to come find me? I'm sorry."

"You kidding? Everyone is out here looking for you, with the possible exception of Cailan. I'm just lucky enough to have found you first. I owe you...so much. I don't know how, but it's clear Duncan believes you saved them. I owe you everything." He paused, looking at me speculatively.

"When you said some of us have lost everything recently, you meant me, didn't you."

I nodded. "Yes. And Aedan."

"Thank you for that. I've never had someone get so angry on my behalf before."

"Thank me when he agrees to go into hiding until we can safely get him back on the throne."

"Well, if anything was going to scare him into it, I think seeing you in a rage would probably do it."

"He needs to grow up, there's no question. But really, you'd think I'd know by now that screaming at petulant children doesn't tend to make them do what you want them to." Alistair barked out a laugh, and I grinned. "I wish I had learned how to guilt people into doing things from my foster mother. She was amazing. She never yelled once, just gave you this face that made you feel like a terrible disappointment. I bet that would work on him pretty well."

"She sounds like the Revered Mother during my templar training. The way that woman wields guilt, she should have been in the army." We both chuckled, and fell silent again. Finally, he stirred. "So. Want to go back and face the music?"

"Not particularly. I think I'll just lay here for a while, if you don't mind."

"Oh, uh, okay. Should I stay? Or..."

Suddenly Tomas stepped out of the shadows, and Alistair and I jumped. He hadn't made a single sound.

"You go back to camp, Alistair. I'll stay here for a bit."

"Alright, Du...Tomas." I grinned at the same mistake I'd been making for days.

I rolled onto my back, slightly, and poked Prince in the ribs gently. "Go back to camp with Alistair, Prince. Go find Aedan." He whined, but I shooed him away, and he eventually fell in step beside Alistair as they trudged away.

"You never stop taking care of others, it seems." He watched Alistair disappear into the darkness, a fond smile on his face. He settled down onto the ground beside me. "You know the dog can find his way back to camp. You worry Alistair can't."

I grimaced. "Stop doing that. I'm trying to be all mysterious, here." He laughed. I sat up; running my fingers through my hair, I discovered and tried to pick out leaves and twigs that had tangled there.

"You made quite an impression back there."

"It was stupid. I'm sorry. I know it's going to make Cailan...sorry, Theron even harder for you to manage. Honestly, sometimes that man makes me feel like we're herding cats. He just gets under my skin! I may not like her, but with him on the throne, Ferelden is damned lucky he married Anora, or it all would have fallen apart in weeks after his coronation."

"It's alright. Sometimes things need to be said. And I might not have worded it exactly that way-" Duncan grinned slightly, "-but I don't disagree with anything you said. He needed to hear it, and I do actually think it will do some good. He wanted to come out here to find you and apologise, but Aedan and Leliana cornered him and asked him to imagine what your opinion would be of the King wandering off, alone, into the forest at night, when there were other people better equipped to check on you. He grumbled about it, but he stayed put."

"Will miracles never cease? Man, I knew I'd love Leliana."

Tomas laughed. He reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. "Sierra? You know that I'm not...well, that I don't..."

"...want to sleep with me? I know."

"It's not just you. I'm not..."

"...interested in women? But what about that mage – back before you went to the Deep Roads with Maric?"

"It's not so much women as…well, honestly I've just had too much to do. Meeting the Architect, seeing what it did to my Commander…Sex isn't high on my list of priorities. My life has been all about darkspawn. And besides, I'm a hair's breadth from my Calling – it's not like there's a future in a relationship with me."

"Don't worry. I'm not looking to fall in love with you, just trying to avoid a confrontation with Theron."

"I thought as much. So, given that, it seems to me that perhaps the one thing you might need right now is some simple comfort. And since I can't offer you tea, or a warm bath, or any of those other comforting things, I thought that maybe I could just sit with you and let you fall asleep feeling safe..."

I leaned over and interrupted him with a kiss on the cheek. He shuffled around to put his back against a tree stump, and lifted his arm to offer me a place to curl up. I put my head on his shoulder, and he draped his arm around me. I thought that his armour might make an uncomfortable pillow, but I was wrong. _Or I just didn't care. I'm not sure which._

* * *

A/N:

I hope you all enjoy seeing Sierra meet Aedan and Alistair, finally! This story keeps getting more fun to write.

As always, thanks to Kira Tamarion, Rhia474 and BookWyrm76, without whom this would not be nearly as polished. I do not own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Reviews:

Clafount - the people of Lothering do indeed largely survive, which makes me happy. I'm a sucker for a happy ending! In some ways I feel like Leliana would be easier to convince than the rest. With her idealism and sense of awe and faith in the Maker - she more than anyone thinks that anything is possible. Hope I managed to keep her in character.

Levana Fay - I haven't read any of the graphic novels. Something about them just doesn't appeal to me much - any graphic novels, not just the DA ones. I contemplated whether they would mess with my plot, but decided to largely ignore them. I may consider putting in something about the possibility that Maric lives once the Blight is dealt with. Not sure. Loghain - I sort of get him, but still mostly hate him. It'll be interesting to try writing him when the time comes.

Thedas'Hero - yeah Duncan came across as all professional in game, but if you read "The Calling" he definitely has some of the imp in him. It's been fun bringing that out.

Bluster-Squall - I definitely did my hospital research - ten years of post-secondary research, actually. Glad it was intelligible though. Sometimes it's hard not to use the clinical terms. Sierra is definitely terrified, as I'm sure I would be, but she's not convinced flight would even work. Besides, she's kind of curious. Wouldn't you be? :)

And for all the rest of the reviews: Thank you. Seriously. Please keep reviewing - it's what keeps me writing :)


	9. Earning Trust

**Chapter Nine: Earning Trust**

I woke several hours later, Tomas still awake and still holding me. Dawn had just begun, and the sky was beautiful in pinks and oranges.

"No sleep again? You be careful, ser, or I will start shouting at you in front of the entire group." He smirked. I kissed his cheek again, impulsively. "You'd have made a wonderful father, just for the record."

Tomas actually blushed. We both worked our way to our feet, and I followed him back to the camp. He crept over to the fire and curled up quietly to have a nap. I nodded to Aedan, who was apparently on watch. He gave Tomas a pointed look, then looked back at me and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. I shook my head, miming sleep. He made the same gesture at Theron, and I grimaced, shaking again. He turned to look at Alistair's sleeping form, instead, and then raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

_Great. I met the guy five minutes ago and he can bloody tell I'm attracted to Alistair. Note to self - learn to be a better actor_. I shrugged, refusing to confirm or deny. I wasn't going to admit to anything. I turned away to hide my blush.

Theron was sitting at the edge of camp, awake, refusing to make eye contact with me. I walked over and sat, facing him. I waited for a moment to see if he would look at me, but he refused. I opened my mouth to apologise, but he spoke first.

"So. Duncan, huh?"

I was speechless. _So not where I expected this conversation to go._

"I guess I get it. I hear lots of women like older men. And, you know, he's a Grey Warden, and it's so..._romantic_." He put a strange emphasis on the last word.

"Your Majesty..."

"Don't, Sierra. Please. Just for five minutes, can't it be just Cailan?"

"Just Cailan, then. It's not like that."

"What is it like, then? I have so much more to give you, you know. Anything you want, you'd just have to ask. What does he have to offer that I don't?" If I couldn't hear the hurt in his voice, I'd have laughed. '_Just Cailan' my ass_.

"So you've decided then that I am a whore? That I sell my body for things, or for power? That I should use sound, logical, business sense to decide who I will be with? With you, I'd have access to money, be able to influence the running of the country, so I should pick you instead of someone else? I feel so very...valuable, right now." I kept my voice quiet. _One screaming fit per twenty-four hour period only._ Besides, I knew that he was just being a hurt child, and that he hadn't thought through the implications of what he was saying. I could be patient with that for a little bit.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I do know it, but do you? Are you sure? I do know what this is for you. I'm an unknown. I'm mysterious, a damsel in distress. And you've probably never been told no by a woman in your life. You are fascinated by the mystery, but we both know this isn't love, 'Just Cailan'. We've only known each other for four days!

"And even if it were, try to think about this from my point of view for a moment. You're married. So maybe you put aside Anora, and maybe you don't. But even if you do, I'm not Queen material. I don't have the skills, don't have the pedigree. I'll shout at all the nobles in the Landsmeet and offend them all completely. I don't even know if I'll stick around - maybe I just disappear for good, next time. There is no way that you could ever have me as your Queen.

"So I'd have to be your mistress. And then what? Live in the palace? Anora would have my head. So I'd get a room somewhere, and have to sneak in to the palace to see you. Wait weeks between visits when you're busy with affairs of state. And do what, while I'm waiting? I don't exactly knit. So I spend all my time waiting for word that I can sneak in five minutes with you, risk getting caught and you being forced to end it with me, or being manipulated and used by political rivals in various schemes, or getting kidnapped for ransom. And then, one day, I get pregnant. And then I'm raising a royal bastard, torn between the fear that you'll love your legitimate children more - or that you won't and my children become pawns in someone's political game. And some day, maybe something like Ostagar happens, and you and whatever legitimate heirs you have die, and my poor kid is being put on the throne against his will just to keep the great Calenhad bloodline going.

"What, exactly, can you offer me, 'Just Cailan'? You can't even offer me fidelity."

Cailan stared at me for a moment, his face red. "Wow. You really must hate me."

I reached out and touched his cheek, gently. "I don't, Cailan. I actually like you, most of the time. You're handsome, you're funny, and you're caring. I think if you tame some of your impulses, you could be a truly amazing leader. I will do anything I can to help you get back on your throne, to help you find happiness. But you won't find happiness with me. I'm just not capable of giving you that.

"For the record, no, not with Duncan either. He's an adoptive father for me. I'm not bedding him, nor will I ever. I promise."

"You spent the night alone in the woods..."

"He sat watch, and I cried on his shoulder. That's it. I swear. Armour makes a better pillow than you might think."

He seemed to accept that, and some of the unhappiness on his face eased.

"So do you think...could we be friends, instead? Or maybe, could I be like an honorary sister? I promise to always see you as 'Just Cailan', even when protocol dictates I don't say it out loud, and you promise to keep that sense of humour going, and we both have someone to turn to when we just need to talk or whatever? Could we do that?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I'd like that. I've never had a sister."

"Cailan, about last night..."

"You were right. About everything."

"I wasn't. Some of it, sure, but...you didn't ask for any of this either, and you're trying to put up with an intolerable situation. I was angry, and well, scared." I ran a somewhat shaky hand through my hair. "I need you to survive, Cailan. I've seen what happens if you don't. Promise me you'll listen to Duncan, let him keep you safe? If you promise to listen to him, I promise never to shout at you again. In public, at least."

"I can live with that. I'd hate to have to use that rack after all." I giggled, and it felt good to laugh. He took on a mischievous expression. "So, if you're my sister, now, does that mean I can do this?" Cailan grabbed me in a sudden headlock, and then used his knuckles to mess up my hair and rub my scalp. I squealed, reaching down and finding a small handful of mud, turning to smear it on his face when he let me go. He roared, and I jumped up, running away before he could get me back. He chased me, and we woke the rest of the camp laughing as Prince joined the game, jumping and barking as I hid and he tried to catch me.

Alistair sat up, looking grumpy, complaining loudly. "Maker's ass, couldn't you make up a little bit later in the day?"

I finally collapsed down by the packs, digging through one to find a small hunk of cheese I'd noticed at supper last night. After I handed it over, Alistair forgave me, too. _It's going to be a good day._

Once everyone was awake and fed, we all gathered near the fire to plan. Morrigan was even present, to my surprise. She'd spent the night as a bird, watching but not participating. It seemed...lonely_. I feel sorry for Morrigan? Huh._ Everyone wanted time to talk to me one on one, to test my assertions that I knew them, to ask about the future. And I had no desire to go back to Lothering, so that worked for me.

We needed more supplies if we were going to be traveling, and we needed time to plan where to go first. I knew that plan wouldn't be cemented until everyone had convinced themselves that I knew as much as I said I did. I also knew we had one more companion in town to pick up before we left, and had to hope to find Bodahn and Sandal despite the changing events.

Since Theron, Tomas, and Morrigan would probably be better left outside of town in case they were recognised, we decided that I would spend a bit of time talking to Aedan, Alistair, and Leliana, then they would head into town and I would remain with the others. So while everyone else sat patching armour, cleaning weapons, or just trying to relax, I found myself wandering out into the woods with Aedan and Prince beside me.

First he asked me to tell him what I knew about him. I reminded him that I had seen the events through his eyes, so didn't really get the opportunity to know his thoughts or learn his secrets like I did everyone else. But then I recounted all that I could remember of the human noble origin. We talked about Mother Mallol, and the scholar Aldous; meeting Duncan and being informed that Aedan wouldn't be accompanying the army. His father's nickname for him - 'pup'. Fighting giant rats with Prince and Ser Gilmore in the pantry. Aedan got an interesting look on his face when I mentioned Roderick - _Rory, apparently, for short_ - Gilmore, but I couldn't read it. Then running into Lady Landra and her son. Darren? _Something like that_. Saying goodbye to Fergus, and finally going to bed, only to be woken by fighting. Eleanor in armour, realising the men attacking were Howe's men. Finding Orianna and little Oren, even Lady Landra. Fighting through to Ser Gilmore, and leaving him to die trying to hold the gates while Aedan and Eleanor ran in search of Bryce. Finding Bryce in the pantry, dying, Duncan confirming he wouldn't survive trying to flee. Duncan's agreement with Bryce that Aedan join the Grey Wardens, and Eleanor deciding to stay behind and defend their retreat.

Aedan broke down and cried, and I wrapped my arms around him. I knew this was likely his first chance to mourn them. I held him, slowly sinking to the ground while he sobbed.

"I left them. I should have stayed. I should have fought. Mother, and Father, Rory...I just walked away and left them!"

I stroked his short dark hair, feeling him shake as he sobbed. I whispered the platitudes I knew wouldn't help, but I tried anyway. When he finally looked up, I wiped his tears with my sleeve and he kissed my cheek.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Don't tell them what? That you're human? I think they believe you about that, even if they don't all believe me."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So...what becomes of Highever, now that the last Cousland had to renounce my claim to the title?"

"Oh, no! Aedan, I am such an idiot. I completely forgot, you don't know. You're not the last Cousland. Fergus is alive. He was scouting in the Wilds, and I think, maybe got injured, but...actually, I don't know the details, but he survived. In the...performance, he made it to Denerim after the Archdemon was defeated, and became Teyrn of Highever."

"Truly? Maker, you don't know how happy I am to hear that!"

"Maybe we can try to find him sooner, since we know. Not that I have any idea where he is, or anything. If I end up disappearing again, I'll try to find out."

Then we talked about Ostagar - the Wilds trip, the Joining, Daveth and Ser Jory. The fight to reach the top of the tower of Ishal. The ogre. Then being overrun by darkspawn and waking up in Flemeth's hut. Thinking, at least for a while, that he and Alistair were alone against the Blight.

We talked a bit about his joining the Grey Wardens. I wondered if he was bitter to be forced to join. It turned out he'd been chafing at the bit for a while wanting to get out of the castle, and had argued with his father over not being allowed to join the Grey Wardens, especially after learning that Ser Gilmore was being recruited. I made a mental note to learn more about Ser Gilmore eventually. Aedan was devastated that his family had been murdered, of course, but felt gratitude, if anything, to Duncan for recruiting him. Even more so once I told him about Fergus. I was glad - we didn't need a reluctant hero, constantly fighting with Duncan.

Talking to Aedan was...easy. I wasn't awkward, like I was around Alistair. Not that Aedan wasn't good looking, but I just couldn't see him like that. He wasn't looking at me like that, the way Theron did, either. It was like we had been friends forever. By the time we got back to the camp, we were teasing each other and laughing. I could still see the sorrow in his eyes, but it seemed less heavy, somehow. Maybe it was just knowing there was one less soul to haunt him.

Once in camp, Leliana grabbed me and dragged me off into the woods also. I gave Alistair an apologetic smile as I was pulled away. She lead me deeper into the woods than Aedan had, and spent a few minutes scouting around before deciding we were truly alone. I didn't see the black bird that was Morrigan, so I figured we were safe.

"You might have warned me."

"Uh...what?"

"The King of Ferelden?"

"Uh, well. Yeah. I wasn't allowed to talk about that. I'm sure you can understand why."

"You said you trust all of us. Did you include me in that by mistake?"

"No, Leliana. In fact, I probably trust you more than most. But it wasn't my secret to tell."

"That's no excuse."

"So you'd agree that it would be fair for me to inform the group that you are a bard, you started out as a spy in Orlais, and that Marjolaine, your mentor and ex-lover, is currently in Denerim, arranging to ambush us with the intent of getting you killed, just because I trust them? Leliana. I trust you. They don't, yet. They barely trust me. And spilling secrets isn't going to improve that situation." She stared at me for a moment, then looked away, face flushing slightly.

"It would seem that again, you're the rational one in this little group. However did we manage, in the performance you described, without you to make us see sense?"

"Aedan. He's clever."

"Hmm. So...you know about Marjolaine?"

"Yes. I know she trained you, used you, and then betrayed you. You ran away to the Chantry to get away from that life. But she will come after you, when you leave the Chantry. She'll think this was some sort of strategy."

"And does she kill me?"

"No. But she won't stop until you make her, Leliana. At home, I'm sort of a pacifist. I don't know how to fight. It feels really strange to say this, but...when you get the chance, I urge you not to show mercy. You'll regret it."

"I see."

"So will you come with us, Leliana? Have I convinced you?"

"I haven't decided yet. I need to think, to pray. I will, however, help your Aedan and Alistair in Lothering, at the very least."

"Thank you." I repressed the urge to hug her. "Now, next time I disappear, if you're still with us...if I lend you a pair of scissors, will you fix Theron's and Tomas' hair?"

"You do know how to tempt a girl!" We laughed and headed back to camp. Tomas was talking to Aedan, and Alistair sat looking awkward as Theron talked at him. Morrigan was nowhere to be seen. I rescued Alistair, giving Theron a smile.

Alistair and I wandered through the now familiar woods, until he found us a fallen log to sit on. He straddled it, facing me, and I sat, self-consciously, while he studied me.

"For what it's worth, I believe you. I'm not going to test you."

I was unexpectedly thrilled, and had to fight the goofy smile that wanted to break out on my face. "Why?"

He thought about that for a bit. "Duncan trusts you."

"Don't. Don't just trust me because he does. I need you to, for yourself. Please."

"It's not just that. It's also...I saw the battlefield, from the top of the tower, right before I blacked out. I knew there was no way for anyone to survive that. But somehow, you saved Duncan and Cailan. To even have found them on the battlefield, you must have known the details of what would happen to them beforehand. And any idiot can see you're not from around here. You have strange mannerisms, strange clothes. If it wasn't for you, I'd be alone. I don't want to combat the Blight alone. I'm..."

I interrupted him. "I know. Not a leader. If everyone let you lead, we'd all end up lost somewhere, and you'd discover you didn't have any pants."

"Hey! Just 'cause you're some mysteriously omnipotent being from another world doesn't mean you get to steal my lines!"

"I sincerely apologise. I can't promise not to do it ever again, though. You've got some funny lines!"

He went to smack me playfully, and I pretended to cower.

"Not the face! Not the face!" He looked shocked for a second, and then cracked up once he confirmed I was joking.

"So. Thank you for believing in me, but...you still need to test me. I know Tomas is going to question everyone later to see if I knew all their secrets. You need to know what I know."

He looked uncomfortable. I took pity on him.

"Let me start. You are Alistair Theirin. Bastard son of King Maric Theirin. Raised by Arl Eamon in Redcliffe, and everyone thought you were _his_ bastard. He married Isolde, an Orlesian woman with a really annoying voice, who made your life miserable until she convinced him to send you off to the Chantry to train as a templar at about age ten. He always made sure you were aware that you had no claim to the throne, made you feel like you were nobody. When he sent you to the Chantry, you got angry and threw your mother's amulet at the wall, where it smashed. He tried to visit you at the Chantry, but you refused to see him, and still feel guilty about that. You hated the Chantry, although you found that the discipline part of the training was actually ok. You attended one Harrowing, and the mage became an abomination, and you watched someone kill her. You were conscripted by Duncan before you took your vows, so you never got addicted to Lyrium. One of your fellow recruits died during your Joining.

"You tell everyone you were raised by wild dogs from the Anderfels who can fly and are devout Andrastians, and you always crack jokes to avoid discussing anything personal. You like figurines, and cheese. You think swooping is bad. You're unreasonably afraid of being turned into a toad by Morrigan or her mother. You probably called Morrigan a sneaky witch thief when you met her in the Wilds." I sat back and grinned.

Alistair just stared at me until I blushed and looked away. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, I, uh, think that pretty much covers it."

"Then let me tell you some things you don't know. For example, Eamon kept your mother's locket, and had it repaired. It's in his desk in Redcliffe Castle. You should also know that your father, Maric, actually loved you very much. He made a promise to your mother, whom he also loved, to keep you away from court, because she knew he hated being the king and she didn't want all your choices taken away like that. That's why he sent you to Redcliffe, though I doubt he knew how you'd be treated there. Your mother wasn't a servant in Redcliffe, she was a Grey Warden. And I think she might still be alive. The half-sister you thought you had, actually isn't. They picked the name of a convenient servant who had died in childbirth and told you she was your mother, making Goldanna your half-sister. They lied.

"In the, uh, performance, during this Blight, it was just you and Aedan. And despite your insistence that you couldn't lead, and that you were a nobody, you always kept Aedan on the high road, even when the temptation to cut corners and use the ends to justify the means was really strong. You were the backbone of the group, the one everyone relied on, and you didn't even know it.

"I also know that if Theron had died, Eamon would put you forward as the rightful heir to the throne. I know you wouldn't have wanted to do it, that you hated the very thought of it. But I also know that you actually are a much better leader, and a much better man than you believe yourself to be. You could become an amazing King, ruling Ferelden better than Cailan or Maric ever did. I don't want that for you - I think you should have the choice of what to do with your life, but you should know. You are capable of much more than you think possible."

Embarrassed at my appalling lack of subtlety, afraid that Alistair would look up and see the - _inappropriate, Sierra_ - I reached over and squeezed his hand, then stood up and walked away before he could respond.

Back at camp, I sat down beside Tomas, leaning against him for a brief moment, trying to recapture the feeling of safety I'd had the night before. He smiled at me, his eyes knowing, and I cursed my bad acting skills again.

After a few minutes Alistair came back into camp, and I avoided making eye contact. Everyone gathered in the usual circle around the fire, including Morrigan, to discuss plans briefly before the three went into town. We discussed what supplies they should try to buy, everyone adding ideas, including more backpacks, more water skins, poultices, tents, blankets or bedrolls, and commoner clothes for me. Leliana and I compared sizes, briefly, and she thought she'd be able to help pick out some clothes that at least would be close to fitting.

"There's someone in town that you need to talk to, also. He needs to come with us. It's going to take a bit of work to get it figured out, but I'm hoping we can impose on Leliana to intercede on our behalf with the Revered Mother."

The bard looked at me, puzzled, but I watched as she figured it out. She tried to hide a somewhat pleased half-smile. "You mean to recruit the Qunari." I nodded.

"Aedan and Alistair should speak with him first, I think, but unless they have some major objection, then yes."

"Are you quite certain he can be trusted?" I knew what she was asking me. Did I really want a murderer joining our party?

"I am. He's a strange one, I'll give you that, but if they can secure his word, he will never break it."

Tomas watched the exchange, confusion building. I debated, but decided hiding the truth would cost me some of my hard-earned trust. I'd just have to hope they saw the reasoning behind it.

"There's a Qunari in a cage outside Lothering. He murdered a family in a fit of, well, temporary insanity. There was a reason for it, but not one that makes sense to anyone but a Qunari. He was so ashamed that he allowed himself to be captured and caged. He could escape, if he tried, but he won't, because he thinks that a gruesome death at the hands of the darkspawn will be his atonement. If offered a chance for redemption, and if he gives his word to help defend against the Blight, he'll be very handy to have around." I saw a couple of people mouth the word 'handy', and blushed. "He's a pretty amazing warrior. He isn't a danger to any of us, and while I don't think any of us will consider him a friend, he will be helpful. If Leliana can convince the Revered Mother to let him out, that is."

"I can. I will. I think that's an admirable idea. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"How do we know he won't murder us in our sleep?" I turned to Alistair.

"I'd say 'trust me', but that feels a little disingenuous right now. That's why I want you and Aedan to talk to him first. If you're not convinced, don't let him out. But let me just add this - he's been in that cage for three weeks without food or water. He's still alive. And he could have left at any time if he decided to. But the decision is up to you guys."

Leliana took the lead walking to Lothering, with Prince trotting at her side. Aedan and Alistair were following along behind. _Probably staring at Leliana's ass._ I saw Theron and Tomas both shooting longing glances at them, and thought perhaps I'd accidentally voiced my thought out loud. I realised, though, that they were both probably just sick of being stuck in camp. _Boohoo._ I sighed and scratched my head, pulling my hair out of the complicated 'do it had been in since pretending to be a noblewoman yesterday. I felt sweaty and sticky, and my hair was hanging together in clumps. I had an idea.

"Hey, Morrigan?" The witch still sat by the fire, everyone having ignored her. Again. She looked up, her expression hard to read. "I'm desperate to wash up. I am going to go down to the stream. Care to accompany me? We can talk on the way." She looked skeptical, so I added bait. "I've got soap." Her eyes lit up, and she practically sprang up to grab her pack and follow me.

I turned to Theron and Tomas, who were watching the witch with wary expressions. "Now, you two be good boys and stay here, yes? I'd hate for you to be accidentally turned into a toad for spying on us, brother." I ruffled Theron's hair, and he squawked indignantly. Morrigan laughed and followed me into the woods.

By unspoken agreement, we found the stream and washed up first. The water was cold, but I didn't care. I stripped and laid down in the middle of the stream. Morrigan stared at me, averting her eyes when she saw me noticing. She crouched by the side of the stream and surreptitiously washed without baring anything. _Seriously? We're both girls. Whatever. I'm not lessening my enjoyment of this because of modesty._ I soaped myself off, sitting up to scrub my hair with the bar. I knew it would make it impossibly tangled, but I didn't care. I'd take clean and messy over dirty any day.

Finally satisfied, I stood, shivering, and it occurred to me I didn't have a towel. I briefly wondered if there was a way to bring my huge terrycloth bath set from home next time I went back. I shook off, sort of like Prince, and pulled my clean, now dry panties from my pack, slipping into them and then my clothes while still damp. I grumbled, determined to at least bring a spare bra and an extra t-shirt next time. I washed the dirty panties, tucking them away, and finally felt human again, if cold. I put my jacket back on, wishing I'd thought to bring my cloak. I huddled into a ball and pulled out my comb, starting to work out the tangles while I watched Morrigan bend over and somehow wash her own hair without getting her clothes wet. She finished without tangles in her own long black hair. _Bitch_.

Seeing me huddling, still shivering, she rolled her eyes. "'Tis a good thing you aren't from here. I can only assume you would not have survived long in this world." She turned, spying a nearby boulder, and muttered something under her breath, finally waving her hand in its general direction. A streak of fire flashed from her fingers, splattering against the rock. "There. I suppose the others would be much more difficult to manage if I let you freeze to death."

I smiled brilliantly at her and scrambled to my feet, approaching the boulder. The heat rolled off it in waves, and I held my hands out, luxuriating in feeling warm. I cleared a small space, close enough to be warm but far enough not to get burnt. Morrigan and I both sank down onto the ground, backs to the radiant stone, letting our damp hair dry.

I broke the silence first. "So. We should talk."

"We should." I sat, still pulling snarls out of my hair, waiting for her to begin testing me.

"Are you going to ask me questions, then?"

"Indeed not!"

"Uh...why not?"

"A skilled charlatan can determine the answers based on the questions asked. For it to be a true test, you must also provide the questions."

"Uh, okay. Um, well, let me see. You were raised in the Wilds by Flemeth, who is your mother. Or at least, she raised you; I'm not sure if she's blood related. She is a powerful sorceress, a shapechanger who can take on the form of a dragon. She is an abomination, having made a deal with a demon to keep her alive, or so the story goes. She liked to use you as bait for templars who got too close when you were a child. You learned shapechanging from her, and as I recall, can assume the form of a giant spider, or I think a bear...and apparently a bird, from what I saw earlier.

"You once stole a mirror from a noblewoman you encountered in the Wilds. When Flemeth discovered it, she smashed it to pieces. You'd give almost anything to get your hands on Flemeth's grimoire. And the reason Flemeth sent you with the Grey Wardens, the reason I think she even saved them, was so that you could perform a blood magic ritual with one of them, before the final battle, impregnating you. It would cause the Archdemon's essence to be drawn into the body of your unborn child, to be reborn as an untainted Old God, coincidentally saving the life of the Grey Warden who strikes the killing blow.

"You hate Circle mages, believing that they have enslaved themselves willingly, and have nothing but contempt for the Chantry. You like pretty jewelry, though you will never admit it. You act like you hate Alistair and think he's stupid, but I don't actually think that's true. I think you just enjoy baiting him."

"I do enjoy baiting him, 'tis true, but his lack of intelligence isn't in question, as far as I can tell." I rolled my eyes, and Morrigan actually appeared to smile.

"So. How did I do? Am I a charlatan? A Fade spirit? Just plain crazy? What do you think?"

"You definitely know things that you should have no way of knowing, so while I cannot fathom how you could possibly be what you claim, I cannot offer another explanation."

"I'm going to take that as acceptance, I think."

"For now." Morrigan paused. "So...may I ask what you plan to do with your information?"

"You're wondering if I will prevent you from performing the ritual with Aedan or Alistair?"

"I am."

"I won't. I don't think it's my decision to make, anyway. However, with, uh, Tomas around, I think you will have a much harder time getting agreement."

"Foolish. Why would he not accept such a small sacrifice to preserve his own life?"

_Aha. She doesn't know everything about Wardens. Interesting_. "All I will say is that sometimes, there are worse things than death, for a Grey Warden." Morrigan scoffed, but seemed to realise she would get no more out of me on the subject.

Once both of us had dry hair, we returned to camp. Well, I did. Morrigan came partway, and then hesitated.

"You're going to change shape and spend the rest of the day watching us in animal form, aren't you?"

"I...prefer that, yes."

"Just...know that you are welcome, if you decide to join us."

Morrigan stared at me, an unfathomable expression on her face. "I will keep that in mind."

Leaving her to her privacy, I went back to camp alone.

* * *

A/N:

As usual, thanks to Kira Tamarion, Rhia474, and BookWyrm76 for their invaluable help as editors. I do not own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Oh, by the way: this story can also be found on Live Journal and AO3 under the same user name, if anyone's wondering.

Reviews:

I'm so pleased that some of the authors I read ad enjoy are reading this. You know who you are. Thank you!

Judy: You don't ask questions, but you always review and I love you for it. Thanks!

Clafount: Prince was the name of my former piano teacher's Doberman. And while Mabari look nothing like Doberman, their attitude is similar, at least to that particular one. It just fits. So yeah...good pick :)

RogueKittieKat: I love dialog. Too much, probably, at least according to any professional editors, but...I can't help it. Character development without dialog is like Christmas without Santa. What's the point? I'm a bit afraid to read the comics, to be honest, before I finish this - I have some plans, and I'm afraid it will mess with them. I might take you up on them eventually.


	10. New Arrivals

**Chapter Ten: New Arrivals**

I found Theron and Tomas, both stripped to the waist, sparring with sticks instead of swords. I could see that Tomas was clearly the better swordsman, despite Theron's relative youth and impressive physique, but he was holding himself back to avoid humiliating Theron outright. I sat down nearby to watch, and Tomas took the opportunity to use it as a teaching moment. Both men backed off in intensity, and Tomas took the time to announce what they were doing, pointing out footwork, sword strokes, and parries. I found the half-naked thing distracting, but persevered through it to pay attention to what mattered. I realised I should have done some training with them before I took my bath in the stream, but now clean and dry, I just couldn't bring myself to get sweaty again. I finally drowsed, sitting in the bright sun, not waking until Theron ran by and pushed me over to land on my side on the ground. He took off towards the stream, howling in laughter as I cursed.

Tomas sat across from me, having thrown his shirt on, sweat still running down his brow and staining the cloth. He looked amused, and as I picked myself up off the ground I realised that, not only was my hair still a mess but I probably now had dirt and leaves on my face. I sighed and brushed myself off, returning to trying to comb out the knots in my hair. Several curses and a couple of small bald spots later, Tomas grabbed my hand, stopping me from attacking the next tangle.

"I had a sister, once. Before..." He sighed, and I nodded understanding. Before he ended up on the street, before he was recruited. She was most likely dead. "She had curly hair. She and my mother used to fight over combing out her hair all the time. She'd end up bawling, half bald, every time she washed her hair. Until I realised I could help." He prodded me until I turned and sat with my back to him, and he knelt behind me. I closed my eyes, humming in pleasure as he used his deft fingers to pick out the snarls, smoothing my waves. There was something so intimate, so familiar in that touch, I found myself longing for...something. A family perhaps? I wasn't sure, but I wasn't going to complain.

We were both still sitting like that when Aedan and Alistair returned. Tomas stopped right away, and the absence left me feeling lonely. _I've lived alone for ten years, and suddenly now I feel lonely in the middle of a group? Ridiculous_. I immediately noticed that Leliana and Sten weren't with them. I worried about that, wondered what would happen if we failed to recruit the important party members from the game. Not for the first time, I wondered if Duncan and Cailan surviving would have far more unintended consequences than I imagined, wondered if I would regret whatever it was that saved them in the end. Too late now, and anyway I wouldn't have been able to live with myself had I not tried. I looked at Alistair's peaceful smile when his gaze focused on Tomas, and knew I'd do it all over again to avoid seeing his face haunted like it was in the game.

I stood, walking over to see Aedan while Alistair spoke to Tomas quietly.

"Where's Leliana?"

"Getting Sten. She tried, but the Revered Mother wouldn't let him go. She decided to sneak over there herself after dark and bring him out, but they'll have to go around the outside of town to get him here safely. Alistair and I went to the army camp and made a scene to provide a distraction."

"Did you dress him up pretty and make him dance the Remigold?"

"I heard that! Stop stealing my lines." Aedan and I both giggled ourselves breathless while Alistair gave me a dirty look and everyone else watched, puzzled. Apparently they'd had that conversation in Ostagar, just like I had in the game. _Surreal. But funny_.

"Alright, what did you do instead?"

"Actually we just introduced ourselves. Bryland's a good man, and so are his lieutenants. When he learned who we were, who I am, he made a big fuss and paraded us around the army camp. He gave us most of the supplies we were looking for, for free. I made a speech about not allowing Loghain to get away with his betrayal and ending the Blight, and everyone came to watch. Even the templars."

Tomas walked up. "You advertised your presence?"

"Yeah, well...we needed a distraction. And I knew we'd be safe with Bryland's men. Though I think we might want to move camp once Leliana gets here with the big guy. The reward for any Grey Warden, alive or dead, is at ten sovereigns."

I was actually relieved to see Aedan taking control, even standing up to Tomas. I could see Tomas was taken slightly aback at the matter-of-fact attitude. I smiled at Aedan and nodded when I knew no one else was looking. He winked back.

"Perhaps we should leave now. I will stay behind and lead our new companions to the campsite once they arrive?" _Did he just ask Aedan for permission? Whoa_. Aedan shook his head.

"Good idea, but I'll be the one to stay behind. Prince can find you for me, or warn you if I get caught. And of the two of us, I'm the far more expendable, Tomas." I saw an expression flit across Tomas' face, one of regret and worry that belied his usually calm demeanor. I knew that if something happened to either of the younger Grey Wardens, he'd never forgive himself. Still, he eventually nodded in agreement.

All of us packed our supplies into the packs we had obtained. I changed into some simple peasant garb that they had acquired, impressed with Leliana's eye - it fit me almost perfectly. _At least it's pants and shirt, not a dress_. I tucked my Earth clothes into the top of my pack, with the other assorted oddities I had brought over, and then added a peasant dress that apparently Leliana had also found. _Spoke too soon._

Tomas snuffed the fire, covering it with dirt to hide it at least a little, scattering the remains of the burnt wood into the undergrowth. We left Aedan, who faded into the woods with the mabari, and Alistair lead the way, aiming to swing wide around Lothering and head north. Tomas came last, trying to obscure our trail. I watched him at first, having never spent much time in the woods. He made a few obvious false trails, doubling back to the group, and tried to ensure that any broken branches, boot prints and the like blended in. I recalled that a group of Lothering refugees at some point had ambushed our group for the bounty, and suddenly his efforts seemed far more important.

After a few minutes, however, my pack started feeling heavier. I had never been a hiker and even this body didn't have the strength and stamina of the rest. I struggled on with it, unwilling to admit weakness to these new yet familiar companions. Shortly, Alistair stopped for a minute, allowing us to rest. He walked over to me, without a word, took my pack, slung it on one shoulder and his own on the other, shot Tomas an incredulous, slightly dirty look, and took off walking again. I was grateful – and mortified – all at once.

After an hour of walking, and a quick consultation with Tomas, Alistair chose a campsite. I volunteered to light a small fire with my Zippo, and Theron and Alistair wandered off to gather wood. Morrigan, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. Tomas sat near me, looking lost in thought. Once I had a blaze going, I joined him.

"Thank you, Tomas."

"For what, my lady?"

"For allowing Aedan to take the lead, a little. For not over-riding his authority."

"He is a clever lad. He knows what he's doing, and he's handling everything better than the rest of us put together. I may be senior here, but I can recognise competence when I see it. I'm not about to get in the way of that." We shared a smile.

"I worried he'd defer to you, that he wouldn't take charge and stand on his own feet the way I think he was meant to."

"I don't think Aedan is particularly good at deferring to anyone, actually. It's one of the reasons I wanted to recruit him. Grey Wardens aren't army soldiers. They need to think for themselves. I'm more worried about Alistair, actually."

"He will be fine, I think. He needs to believe that he's meant to follow for now, although he actually does make a good leader once he's got a bit more confidence. Aedan will lean on him, and show him respect, and he'll get it figured out."

"You do love him, don't you." It wasn't really a question.

I blushed scarlet, thankful that dusk had come to hide the beacon that was my face, at least from a distance. "How could I? We've barely just met."

"_He's_ just met _you_. I don't think that's really the case for you."

"I...I can't be in love, Tomas. It's not right. I don't know who I am, or why I'm here. I don't know if I'll be able to even stay here. I could get pulled back tomorrow and never return. I can't defend myself, I'd be a liability. I'm not a Grey Warden, I can't share that with him, and then when he gets his Calling... This isn't even what I really look like! I don't know where this body came from, but it isn't mine. I can't allow myself...it wouldn't be fair to him..." I trailed off, swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to suppress the tears I could feel gathering_. I've cried more in the last few days than the last ten years. I hate tears._

Tomas took my hand. "Perhaps he should have a say in what's fair to him, don't you think?" Squeezing my hand, he rose and started working on a tent. Stuffing my feelings back into the box I always kept them in, I joined him. Theron and Alistair wandered back, arms full of wood. Alistair quickly assembled a tent of his own, but Theron stared at the poles and canvas like they would bite him. From watching Tomas, I had a fair idea how they worked, so I joined him.

"It's not rocket science, you know. Here. Let me show you."

"What's rocket science?"

"Uh. Hard to explain. But what I meant is that it isn't too complicated. The tent, I mean. I'll help." Together we managed to get the thing upright, laughing together at the slightly saggy roof and crooked overall result. "I think it will stand, though. I guess practice makes perfect." Alistair shot us a strange look, standing so close together and clearly enjoying ourselves. I flushed and excused myself, returning to Tomas' side.

Tomas had assembled a couple more tents while Theron and I had struggled with his. He pointed to the one closest to the centre of camp, telling me that one was mine. I must have had an odd facial expression at that, because he immediately stopped what he was doing to take me by the shoulders. I felt at the verge of tears again.

"What is it?"

"I...I'm afraid to sleep alone. What if I disappear? What if I don't wake up? What if we get attacked in the night?"

"I can make a bigger tent for you to share with Morrigan or Leliana if you'd prefer."

"Morrigan would never agree to that. And Leliana doesn't trust me."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Can...can I sleep in your tent?" I felt like a small child. I'd never had parents I could crawl in bed with after a nightmare, but I'd certainly had younger foster-siblings end up in mine. I refused to make eye contact, waiting for the rejection. "It's probably not appropriate. I'm sorry. I will manage on my own. Sorry." I went to grab my pack and crawl into my small tent when the roof fell in. I glanced at Tomas in surprise, and he smiled at me.

"I need the tent pole if I'm going to make a bigger one." Once complete, we both stowed our gear in the centre, bedrolls on opposite sides. "Tomorrow we work on your ability to defend yourself, again." I nodded, grateful.

Alistair volunteered to cook with some of the rations they'd obtained. I rushed over to 'help', knowing his cooking was supposed to be dismal. We managed to agree on a soup to go with the dried rations, and Tomas volunteered to go try to catch some wild critter to add to the soup. I hoped he'd find more pheasant. I still didn't think I could bring myself to try rabbit. As I was fishing through the supplies, I was delighted to find a few spices. Some I recognised - oregano, rosemary - but there were several I couldn't place. I resolved to ask Leliana to teach me how to cook with them later, and made a mental note to bring some dried spices next time I ended up at home. Apparently they were expensive here.

Tomas returned with a couple of pheasants and I breathed another sigh of relief. He plucked them and I roasted them before shredding the meat into the soup. The soup was bubbling and smelled delicious by the time Aedan showed up with Sten and Leliana in tow. Aedan stepped up behind me, sniffing appreciatively.

"Ah, good - Alistair's legendary cooking skills must be well known. I'm glad you didn't let him poison us again, Sierra." Alistair groused at that and the two settled into a familiar routine of bickering and name calling. Sten and Leliana stood somewhat awkwardly, and I mentally cursed Aedan as I stood and performed the introductions between Sten and the rest of the group. He looked at me sharply when I announced his name/title without having to ask first.

"Sten, meet everyone. I'm Sierra. Theron, there, is a warrior. Aedan, Alistair, and Tomas are Grey Wardens. I can't see Morrigan, but she's around somewhere. She's a mage. And you've met Leliana; she's a... uh... sister. In the Chantry."

Sten shot another sharp look at Leliana, standing there now in leather armour, carrying a bow on her back and two wicked looking daggers in her belt. Leliana gave him her own stare, and shrugged, slowly, and he let the subject drop. I walked up to Leliana, grabbing her hand and drawing her closer to the fire, ostensibly to help me check the soup.

"I'm so glad you decided to come. And thanks for rescuing Sten. I want to help against the Blight, but worry I've messed things up by changing events. Thank you." I gave her a warm smile, and she gave me a strange one.

"You're sure about Sten? He's kind of...intimidating, no?"

"I'm sure. He won't betray us. And he has honour, even if it is different than what we understand."

"Do they have Qunari where you come from?"

"Oh, no. Definitely not. No elves or dwarves, either. And no darkspawn. The only monsters where I'm from are people."

Alistair sat down, holding his bowl out hopefully. "Is that better? Or worse?"

"I'm inclined to think worse. At least when you see a hurlock, you know what to expect." We all chuckled, and I started serving soup. I gave the three Wardens and Sten all very large portions, and got a funny look from Leliana and Theron. I mouthed "just wait", and soon enough all of the non-wardens were watching the four men shoveling down their food as fast as they could swallow. Leliana levelled a look at me and wiggled her fingers in a gesture I took to mean 'explain'.

"Sten's been in a cage for three weeks without food, and look at the size of him. He's bound to have a bigger appetite than us! As for the others, well...Grey Wardens get hungry. What can I say?" The soup and some of the dry bread was finished off, to Leliana's surprise. Afterwards I went to wash dishes a bit away from camp, and was quickly joined by Theron and Tomas. I giggled inside at the two of them jockeying for position beside me. When we headed back to camp, Aedan rolled his eyes in their direction and I just about burst out laughing. At least he seemed to treat me like a person instead of a very fragile woman. It was refreshing.

Finally, all of us settled in a circle around the fire, Alistair asked the question I'd been waiting for since we'd met up with them.

"So, we have all these treaties - mages, elves, dwarves. And then there's Arl Eamon, and our anonymous guest. Where do we go first?"

All eyes turned to me – I gulped, suddenly confronted with six very serious faces except Sten's, and he glanced around, confused.

"You are expecting this tiny woman to tell you all what to do? She tells me she cannot even defend herself. Why do you follow her?" I think everyone forgot Sten wasn't in on my secret.

"I don't lead, Sten. I suggest, and the Wardens decide. And the reason is...call me a seer. I'm not saarebas," Sten gave me a shocked look at using Qunari terms, "but I have some limited ability to know the future. They're asking me to figure out their best course of action based on the future.

"I can't tell you where to go first. I can tell you what to expect at each place, but like I said, I don't know the timing of all these events. I don't know if some of the problems I anticipate can be avoided by doing things in a different order. So all I can do is tell you what might happen, and you will have to decide." They all nodded, somewhat disappointed.

"So here's the basic scoop. In Redcliffe, Eamon is ill. He's been poisoned by an agent of Loghain's. Connor, it turns out, is a mage, and Isolde knew and kept it from everyone including Eamon. Connor made a deal with a demon to keep his father alive, and is now an abomination."

I could feel Alistair radiating panic from beside me and I touched his knee gently. "Connor can be saved, and so can Eamon. Don't lose hope.

"The demon has killed many of the castle inhabitants and is animating the dead to attack the town of Redcliffe. Bann Teagan has holed up in the Chantry with much of the town's population. So to get to Eamon, we have to battle the undead to save the town, sneak into Redcliffe Castle, kill a bunch more undead, confront Connor, and sedate him. Then a group of mages and a bunch of Lyrium from the Circle Tower can allow one mage to enter the Fade, kill the demon possessing Connor, and release the boy.

"To save Eamon, we need the Urn of Sacred Ashes. It resides in a Tevinter ruin near a town named Haven, in the Frostback Mountains somewhere. To find Haven, we need to go to Denerim and go to a scholar's house to get a map. Once we find Haven, we have to fight a whole bunch of crazy cultists who think Andraste has been reborn as a high dragon. Once they're all dead, we may have to fight the high dragon, and then there's a gauntlet of tests to pass, and then you get the Ashes.

"I know, Sten, that you're going to say it doesn't make sense to save this one man when we are facing a Blight, but we need Eamon to call a Landsmeet and get Loghain off the throne in order to rally the human forces to face the horde, never mind preventing a civil war. If it helps any, I know where your Asala is, and we can get it along the way." Sten jumped and stared, as though I was a ghost. I almost had to laugh.

"So that's Redcliffe. If we want to save Connor, we need the Circle of Magi. Sadly, one of the mages, manipulated by Loghain, tried to stage a coup of sorts and when it didn't go his way, he and a few friends turned to blood magic. There are now abominations running rampant in the tower, and Uldred is turning more and more of the surviving mages. The templars sealed everyone in the tower and have requested permission to kill every living thing inside. If that happens, there's no way to save Connor without using blood magic and someone dying, and the mages won't be able to help us against the darkspawn. So we have to go in there, kill a bunch of demons and abominations, and save the First Enchanter and whichever other mages can be spared. One of them, a healer, will join us. Oh, and we will end up in the Fade, battling a sloth demon.

"The Dalish have a werewolf problem that will have to be resolved before they can aid us. Orzammar recently lost their King and are without a clear successor. To get their aid, we'll have to make an expedition into the Deep Roads to find someone who can break the deadlock, and you'll be left with the choice of who to make King. One of the dwarves will stay with us also.

"Along the way we'll be ambushed by an Antivan Crow who was hired by Loghain, and if we do it right he can be turned to help us. And there's a golem named Shale who can be convinced to aid us in a town named Honnleath, though first there's a traveling merchant somewhere holding her control rod. Oh, and Levi Dryden is around as well and will want us to go to Soldier's Peak, which is currently overrun with demons, and houses a 200 year-old Grey Warden mage who's been...experimenting with the Taint. He's worth a chat for sure.

"Also, I'm not sure what can be done about it, but Loghain named Rendon Howe the Arl of Denerim, and he's currently torturing noblemen and templars alike, and will eventually get his hands on a Grey Warden named Riordan to torture as well. Oh, and Loghain is selling the elves from the Denerim Alienage into slavery to the Tevinters. Civil war is brewing because of his abuses and the rumours about him leaving the battle at Ostagar. And that's only going to be worse with more survivors and more rumours.

"So...what do you guys want to do first?"

* * *

A/N:

Happy Holidays everyone! This will be my last post until the New Year.

Many thanks to Kira Tamarion, bookwyrm86, and rhia474 for the invaluable editing services.

I do not own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Reviews:

KittieKat: Thanks for the kudos. So for AO3 has been lukewarm for me, but I'll keep trying. Hope the intro of Sten works for you!

Nikaeris: Morrigan's appearance really is a little too perfect isn't it? I hate girls like that. *jealous growl* Overall Morrigan is going to be a lot more polite, because like many insecure bullies, they can't continue in the face of someone calling them on their shit. Sierra knowing that half of it is a bluff sort of throws her off. (Plus Sierra does miss a fair bit of party banter at times depending on what she's doing at the time...)

dude41: Thanks! I'm blushing. I hope chapter ten doesn't disappoint!

clafount: Yeah there's going to be a few changes in Thedas. Foresight is an amazing thing! I hope it doesn't disappoint.

In Qunari:

saarebas = mage

asala = soul = a sword given to a warrior when he comes of age


	11. Separate Ways

**Chapter Eleven: Separate Ways**

I took a long, tepid drink from a water skin, mouth puckering from the slightly unpleasant iodine aftertaste, and then watched them all try to talk all at once. It would have been comical if it wasn't so serious. Leliana, Sten, and Morrigan wandered off, probably to let the others decide, since none of them had a vested interest in the order of stops.

Finally the discussion settled into a normal back and forth between Aedan, Alistair, Theron, and Tomas. Alistair, unsurprisingly, wanted to go to Redcliffe first to rescue the town. Theron wanted to march on Denerim, to take Loghain head-on. Tomas wanted us to find somewhere safe for Theron to hide prior to any other consideration, which Theron strenuously objected to. Aedan tried to listen to each, and finally cleared his throat. To my continued surprise, everyone stopped and listened, including both Tomas and Theron.

"So. Let's assume that Loghain learns that Theron didn't die at Ostagar. Do we feel convinced that we can deal with whatever he throws at us to keep the rest of Ferelden from finding out?" He looked around at the group, and not even Theron was able to nod. "Alright. Given that, and that we can't risk Theron dying anonymously in the Deep Roads or the Brecilian Forest, we need to find him somewhere to hide. I know hiding feels cowardly, but you have to admit that the rest of us cannot do what needs to be done if we are more worried about you than about doing our jobs. Agreed?" Theron's face coloured, and it was obvious he was remembering my heated words from the night before. Finally he nodded.

"I think Redcliffe is possibly the best place to hide him. He can blend in as a Knight, and stay out of sight in the Castle. I think we can all agree that Eamon would protect him with his last breath. It won't be easy, but even if Eamon is still ill, he can stay there under Teagan's protection. I think the best thing for us to do is get Redcliffe safely. Can anyone come up with anything better?"

Tomas spoke up. "I only have one thing to add to that. There are very few events that Sierra has related to us that we can hope to prevent. One of those is the capture of Riordan. The other is the slavery of elves in the Alienage. In addition to which, we require some information from Denerim in order to save Eamon. I believe that I am actually a liability to you, given how well-known I am around Ferelden. You have a much better chance of successfully hiding Theron if I am not with you. And I have enough stealth to sneak my way into Denerim, intercept Riordan, do whatever I can to safeguard the elves, and get the information you need to find Haven without being seen. I will send it to Redcliffe, and then perhaps try to rescue those I can from Howe's dungeons. If I am caught, you are still capable of safeguarding Theron and combating the Blight. Otherwise, I will return to you once I am done."

Alistair looked upset at the prospect of losing his mentor and father-figure again, but no one could come up with a reasonable argument against his proposal.

"Then I leave for Denerim at daybreak."

I spoke up. "Then I will tell you what you will need to know in Denerim. On three conditions." Everyone stopped and stared at me. _Shocked that I don't go along with Duncan about everything, no matter what?_

"Name them, my lady." His resigned look said he knew what I would ask. I steeled myself against the guilt I knew I would feel later and pushed on.

"First is that you try to find a way to send word to the Grey Wardens in Orlais. Tell them to come. Sneak across the border in ones and twos, because Loghain will have closed the border. Tell them to send as many non-Orlesians – or at least, ones who can hide their accents – as they can find, and not to send any other reinforcements. If Loghain hears of Chevaliers or other soldiers trying to cross, his paranoia will ramp up even more than it already is. We both know why we need as many Grey Wardens as possible."

"Agreed."

"The second is that you spend tonight telling Alistair and Aedan both all that they need to know in order to combat the Blight. They are not prepared as they should be, and I refuse to be the one to tell them."

Tomas nodded, anguish clear on his face for a split second before his mask fell into place. Aedan and Alistair were too busy looking at each other in surprise to notice.

"And third, you also spend a bit of time tonight alone with Alistair. You know why."

This time Alistair aimed his surprised look at me. I refused to look away from Tomas until he slowly, reluctantly nodded. _It's about time someone who knew her tells him about his mother._ "You have my word."

I stood and stepped away from the fire. "Then I am going to our tent. If I am asleep, please wake me when you are done with the boys." Aedan and Alistair both shot me a dirty look for calling them boys. I grinned apologetically at Alistair, ruffled Aedan's hair in passing, and crawled into the tent Tomas had agreed to share with me. I noticed speculative glances from Theron and Leliana as I headed into the tent. I ignored them.

Inside the tent I pulled out the scissors and razor I had brought with me specifically for Tomas' benefit. I had no idea what to do with myself after that, and I was cold again. I wrapped myself in the blankets from my bedroll, sitting upright, thoughts buzzing through my head on what all we were going to have to face over the next several months. Assuming that I stayed in Ferelden, that was. I felt completely overwhelmed at the odds we faced. Even though it had proved possible in the game, and apparently my being present had improved those odds by adding in some foreknowledge and keeping one extra Grey Warden alive, I knew now that the game ending wasn't set in stone. If I could somehow save some, I could also lose some. There were no guarantees that the story would have even a vaguely happy ending.

I didn't think I'd be able to rest, between worry about the future of Ferelden and worry about disappearing in the night, but the exhaustion won out. I nodded off, sitting upright, chin on my chest. I woke some indeterminate time later when Tomas slipped into the tent. His mask was firmly in place, expression revealing nothing, until he closed the flaps of the tent. When he turned back, I could see despair, anguish, and raw fear on his face. I was a little bit awestruck that he allowed me to see his emotions when he kept such a brutally calm exterior for everyone else, but I was also glad that he did. Everyone needs someone to talk to, to trust.

I crawled out of my pile of blankets, over to him, unsure quite what to do but wanting to offer some comfort. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he curled into it unexpectedly. I grabbed him with the other arm to try to keep my balance, and we ended up with his face buried in my chest, my arms around his neck, and he caught me as I started to topple over. I found myself sitting in his lap. I might have giggled if I couldn't feel him almost trembling in my arms.

I held him, not saying anything, just stroking his hair and rubbing his shoulders where I could reach them. After several minutes, he pulled away and I tumbled awkwardly out of his lap.

"He's angry." I knew without asking that he meant Alistair. He was whispering, and I answered in kind.

"He will get over it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know him. He forgave Arl Eamon after treating him like a saddle sore all his childhood, unwanted but unavoidable, then after all that, sending him to the Chantry. He is hurt, but he will understand. You're his family now. You and Aedan, you're all he has. Just come back, and all will be well. I'm certain of it."

"He will need you. Will you take care of him? I know you wish to avoid...entanglements, but he needs someone to look after him."

"Of course. Can you imagine I would do otherwise?" A small smile quirked the corners of his lips, and he shook his head.

"Hey, I need to ask you something. An opinion. In case, God forbid, you don't make it back." He nodded. "There is an...alternative. To a Grey Warden dying in order to kill the Archdemon." His eyes narrowed, and I couldn't decide if it was disbelief or anger that I'd not told him before. "Not my secret to tell, okay? But listen. There's a price. The price is a child, conceived on the eve before the battle, whose father is a Grey Warden. That child will be born with the untainted soul of the Old God. I have no idea what will happen to that child, or how it could impact the future. I can't guarantee the darkspawn won't find it and corrupt it, somehow start another Blight. I can't guarantee that whatever that child is won't be worse than the Blight. Or, it might just be a human being.

"If the option is for either Aedan or Alistair to perform the ritual, or to let one of them die, what would you want me to recommend?"

Tomas' shrewd eyes examined my face. "This is why you saved me. At Ostagar. So I could be the one to kill the Archdemon, not Aedan or Alistair."

"I didn't save you. Even if I did, it would not be the only reason, by far. But one of them, yes."

"Well..." He looked thoughtful, though still irritated. "I suppose that if there are no other Grey Wardens when that day arrives, then...I would want Aedan and Alistair to survive. And hopefully together they could deal with the consequences, should there be any." He looked somewhat ashamed, but I just drew a sigh of relief.

"Now. Tell me about Denerim."

I told him about Brother Genitivi, and the imposter Weylon. I told him what I could remember about Riordan's story - Howe offering him a place to stay, Riordan not realising his cover had been blown. About the supposed plague in the Alienage, right after the district was closed for a prolonged period due to the attack on the old Arl's son, and the Tevinters who were offering a supposed cure. About the nobles being tortured, and the templar in Lyrium withdrawal, and the elf who tried to defend his bride from the Arl's son, who was also in the dungeon. About the fake support meetings, the Crows who might stop trying to kill the Wardens if they completed some contracts for him.

When I was done, I presented him with the scissors and disposable razor. He was not thrilled to lose his distinctive beard after already losing his long hair, but he allowed me to drag him outside where I trimmed the bristly hair, and he lathered as best he could with cold water and my bar of soap and then shaved the rest. He was amazed by the little razor and I sent it with him to keep him clean shaven at least for a while. Leliana heard us moving about, and spying my scissors, proceeded to cut his hair to give it a lot more style then the poor hack job I'd done with my dagger. He looked like an entirely different person and I was happy that no one would easily recognise him.

Satisfied, we crawled into the tent. Tomas repacked for added stealth, refusing a tent, taking only a small amount of our combined coin, leaving the rest split between Aedan, Alistair, and my pack. We finally fell onto our bedrolls and I was asleep in seconds.

I woke at home, on my bed, still dry and unsoiled. I cursed as my eyes opened and I realised where I was. Everyone would wake in the morning to find an empty tent, as Duncan planned to leave so early. Someone would end up carrying all of my stuff, including our tents. And what if they didn't find Bodahn and Sandal on the road? I groaned, knowing I was completely incapable of doing anything about it. I was still wearing what I had been when I left, despite having changed into commoner clothing in Ferelden. I gave myself a headache trying to wrap my mind around how that would work when I went back.

I repeated my ablutions from the previous visit home, including shower. Despite being away for three days I didn't feel overly hungry, again. Once cleaned up and redressed, including an extra t-shirt, I forced myself to eat, made a list, called a cab, and headed to the nearest supermarket. I bought a package of dark brown hair dye, thinking critically of Cailan's noticeable blond head, some small bottles of shampoo and a detangling spray meant for kids. I also bought a few packets of spices that I knew how to use. Knowing we'd be down to eating nothing but meat either dried or fresh caught, I bought vitamin C tabs. _I refuse to get scurvy along with everything else!_

I also bought several small empty notebooks and a package of small pens. I planned to write down as many details about the various locations as I could, so that I could leave them with Aedan in case I disappeared at an inconvenient time. Or in case at some point I got pulled home and couldn't return. I realised, for the first time, that I didn't want to come home. _I'd rather be in Thedas. I'm going to need to have a t-shirt made for my new motto._

At home I realised that the Swiss army knives I had ordered had arrived, and I tucked them into my pockets. I put the spices and hygiene products in Ziploc bags, added soap and more coin to my pockets, folded in a spare bra, and I was ready except for my notebooks. I kept them near me, and spent the next two days poring through the wiki, writing as fast as I could. I outlined the quests needed to accomplish our goals as well as those that were lucrative. I put in as many details as I could about the enemies they would face and the strategies that seemed to work for different situations. But the first several pages were an overall summary of the difficulties each area was having and the options they would have for resolving them.

I had just finished Redcliffe and the Circle Tower when the dizziness hit me. I stuffed my pens and notebooks in my pockets and raced toward my room. I didn't make it. As I closed my eyes, lying on my living room floor, all I could think of was how stiff I was going to be when I woke up.

* * *

A/N:

As usual, I don't own Dragon Age. I just play here.

Many thanks to Kira Tamarion, Rhia, Bookwyrm, and Melinda for their invaluable help editing.

Please send reviews or even PMs if you're shy. I love the feedback!

Reviews:

Nikaeris: glad to have made your day. And I will join the chant for a new Poison and Wine update gladly!

Roguekittiekat: you're right, in that she has taken some of the seemingly insurmountable-ness of their quest away. I am hoping that epicness can be replaced with the interesting part of what changes will be made in the story. Besides, it's one thing to say 'we must clear the tower of abominations' and another thing entirely to actually do it :)

Draupadi: I plan to have an update weekly. Assuming real life doesn't crash and burn at some point, which...I'm hoping not. For lots of reasons :)

Pygolampida Ankathi Alepou Dai: Sten is confused. And it's fun :) Getting his Asala back will hopefully go a long way towards dealing with that...

Clafount: Sierra is very stuck. It's a bit confusing, to be sure :) And Tomas definitely does care, but he's leaving. Theron...well, you'll see :)


	12. If I die before I wake

**Chapter Twelve: And if I die before I wake...**

When I awoke, it was bright out. I was lying in a field, my overly full pockets bruising me. I heard a shout, and then the pounding of several pairs of feet running. The sun was in my eyes, and when someone's head suddenly blocked the glare I was left temporarily blind. I heard my name being called by a voice I recognised. And then something wet bathed my face.

"Now I know why everyone says Ferelden smells like wet dog." I grimaced at Prince, who chuffed happily and licked me again.

"Thank the Maker. We thought we had lost you." Strong arms grabbed my shoulders and lifted me bodily off the ground, holding me until I managed to find my legs under me. I blinked up at an enormous templar, and then realised that everyone else was standing there staring as well.

"How long was I gone?"

"A little more than two days. When we woke to find all your things still there, even your clothes, but you gone...we thought maybe you'd decided to follow Tomas to Denerim. We couldn't tell what happened."

"Why would I follow Tomas to Denerim?" Alistair coughed, and I noticed Aedan rolling his eyes. _Right, they all think we're lovers._ "I mean, what possible good could that come to? I can't take care of myself. I would just get him killed." Leliana rescued me from my own awkwardness, surprising me with a hug.

"I'm just glad you're back. Do you still have those scissors? I want to fix Theron's hair at some point."

She dragged me off, chatting about nothing, leaving the men open-mouthed in shock. Except for Sten, who just narrowed his eyes. _I swear he thinks I'm a mage. If he even mentions a collar I'm going to bite his knees._

Leliana led me onto the road, and I was delighted to see a cart approach with two dwarves driving it. The older of the two hopped down as he noticed Leliana wave at him.

"You must be Lady Sierra! Welcome, welcome. When the Wardens mentioned they were expectin' someone, I never thought they meant in the middle of nowhere! Pardon me, my lady. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Bodahn Feddic, and this 'ere's my son, Sandal. Say hello to the pretty lady, Sandal."

"Hullo."

Bodahn continued to chatter on, and I barely listened, knowing from the game most of what he'd say. I nodded in the right places, hoping he didn't need more of a response than that. I felt vaguely bad about it, but just couldn't seem to concentrate on small talk. While he spoke, Leliana went rummaging through his wagon, finally pulling out my pack, as well as a bundle of what I realised were the commoner clothes she had picked for me in Lothering. I slipped behind the cart and Leliana watched out for me as I quickly changed my clothes, bundling my jeans and all my new pocket possessions into my pack. I strapped my dagger into place on my thigh, then stared at the sword for a while, realising eventually I needed a sheath unless I wanted to carry it in my hand for the rest of eternity. _Perhaps carrying it will gain me some of that upper body strength. Worth a try._

"It was really creepy going in to your tent to find your clothes laid out in your bedroll as though you were still sleeping, but you gone. And it's a good thing that Morrigan has been flying over us keeping an eye out or we never would have seen you in that field. I'd ask you to stop doing that, but I get the impression that asking you wouldn't help very much. Because if it were up to you, you probably wouldn't keep coming back, yes?"

"You'd be partially right, Leliana. I wouldn't keep popping back and forth - I'd stay. You might try asking the Maker about it, because if he didn't do this, I can't imagine who else could have."

Aedan came around the corner, talking at the same time as Leliana. "You'd stay? Whatever for?"

I started feeling a bit defensive now. "Hey, I know I can't fight, so I'm not exactly helping in the combat department. But I'd like to think I'm not a total barnacle! I'm trying to be helpful."

Aedan chuckled, mouthing the word 'barnacle', and I blushed. "It's a sea creature that likes to grow on the bottoms of boats. If you get enough of them, they create drag. They slow the boat, and you have to row harder or need stronger wind to get the same distance."

Aedan patted my shoulder while Leliana grabbed me in yet another hug. "We didn't mean it like that, Sierra. We all missed you - even if you can't fight, your knowledge and your gadgets are incredibly useful. And you're the best cook among us, as far as I've seen! We just wondered why you would choose to be here when you could be at home, somewhere familiar and safe, with all your friends and family."

"I...would rather not talk about it, guys. Please. Just know I'd rather be here with you than there. If I leave, it isn't on purpose." Leliana took my pack and stowed it back in Bodahn's cart, and we started walking again. Everyone seemed eager to hear what I'd been up to and what I brought with me this time. I demurred, not having even thought about bringing gifts or anything. I did, however, show off the dark hair dye. I pointed at Theron and told him we had an appointment the next time we found a suitable stream. He groaned, and everyone else laughed.

I was able to keep up with the rest of the group walking, but was bone weary when we arrived at the next campsite. Bodahn mentioned he knew of a place with a hot spring, and I dragged Theron to it and proceeded to dye his hair. I left the dye in as long as I dared, and when it was done his hair was a nice, uniform, dark brown. Back in camp I found my scissors and Leliana cut it for him, keeping it shaggy and much longer than Aedan's or Alistair's, but again much more attractive than the mop I'd cut with my dagger. He was still good looking, but unrecognisable. It was perfect.

Everyone took turns using the hot springs. Morrigan, Leliana and I went together, them bathing and me mostly just soaking my sore legs. They were both delighted with my bar of soap and I let them each have a small amount of shampoo. I used the detangling spray sparingly and found I could at least get my comb through my hair to put it up when we were done.

I thanked Morrigan for scouting while we were on the move and for spotting me in the field. She acted indifferent, but it felt like she warmed up towards me a little bit. _I'll take what I can get!_

We set up tents in no time, and ate dried meat and bread for supper. I sat by the fire, writing in my notebooks, what I could remember about the different areas I hadn't completed yet. Prince sat at my feet. Aedan made his rounds, even to Morrigan, talking and cajoling, getting everyone to open up a little bit. _Just like I did in the game_. Alistair went to sleep early, offering to take the late watch. Apparently they had decided that either Aedan or Alistair had to be awake at any given time so they could sense darkspawn. I decided to wait to talk to Aedan about how we had managed watch when Tomas needed rest. I didn't want to contradict him in front of everyone. So Aedan wandered off a little ways from the camp, and everyone else excused themselves and settled in to sleep.

I stayed awake, scribbling in my notebooks by the fire. I knew it was just an excuse, knew I'd be exhausted in the morning, but I had developed some sort of fear of falling asleep alone in case I disappeared. I have no idea what I thought anyone could do if that happened, it was a completely irrational fear, but I couldn't help it. So I sat, and scribbled, and yawned, and eventually fell asleep, pen in hand, right where I sat.

The next morning, when I opened my eyes, I was in my tent. I thought back, and vaguely recalled waking briefly as I was being lifted, falling asleep again before I even figured out who it was that picked me up. Someone had carried me into my tent and tucked me into bed. I was embarrassed, but also felt sort of warm and happy that one of my companions had taken care of me. I briefly wondered who it was, assuming it to be one of the guys, but decided that asking would be even more embarrassing.

I got myself straightened out and crawled out of my tent. Prince was asleep in front of the flap, feet twitching in some sort of doggy dream. I grinned. Alistair was sitting over a pot on the fire, but everyone else must still have been sleeping. I slowly rose, stretching out my stiff extremities, and made my way over to huddle beside Alistair, as close to the fire as I could get. He smiled and handed me a bowl of something that resembled porridge. I wasn't a fan, but it was warm at least, so I ate. We sat quietly together until the rest of the camp stirred, got fed, and we all packed up to head out.

The next few days were all filled with the same sort of monotony. Get up, eat porridge, walk, eat while walking, walk more. Finally collapse, set up tents, eat something else, and then get knocked over and smacked, over and over, by Aedan, or Theron, or Alistair, under the guise of teaching me. I'd never been so bruised in my whole life. Between Leliana and Aedan we were able to have fresh meat almost every night, and they seemed to be engaged in a friendly competition to outdo the other. We started drying some of the extra meat to replenish our rations. I tried rabbit, and didn't vomit. _Small victories._ A couple of times, I didn't fall over while sparring. Occasionally Bodahn would find us campsites he knew, with streams or swimming holes or hot springs we could wash in, other times we'd find a clearing just out of sight of the road. I suggested my plan that non-Grey Wardens could sit watch as long as we woke one of them every two hours or so, and Aedan and Alistair started looking better rested.

I spent a lot of my walking time with Aedan. He was sweet and funny, and despite being good looking and flirtatious, I still found him totally non-threatening. He didn't give me the celebrity jitters the way Tomas and Theron and Alistair and Leliana did, since he was sort-of me. And it had the added benefit of keeping Theron away a bit. Theron and Aedan had developed a dislike for each other that I couldn't figure out, and I worried it had something to do with me. Theron had stopped actively trying to court me after our conversation, but the way he looked at me still didn't feel brotherly. I noticed Leliana didn't seem to spend much time with him either, after one day where he walked with her for most of the day, and I wondered if maybe he looked at all women like that.

Aedan asked me a lot of questions about home. Some I answered easily - explaining the difference between science and magic, seeing a healer or seeing a doctor, what sort of work I did - but some I sidestepped. I didn't want to talk about my family (or lack of one), or what was happening to my body back at home. I tried not to even think about the latter - when I did I started to panic about how long I'd been in Thedas, imagining my body wasting away for lack of food, or going into kidney failure from muscle breakdown from lying in my living room for days on end. I'd once read an article about that happening to someone who hit their head and was unconscious for days before being found. _Sometimes reading a lot is a bad thing_. I ruthlessly suppressed the fear of what would happen if my body at home died. I couldn't change it, so avoidance seemed to be the key to keeping my sanity.

We talked about his home life prior to becoming a Grey Warden. It seemed like telling me stories about the good times helped him cope with all he had lost. He would tell stories of pranks he and Fergus played on each other, or adventures the two of them had. He told me that he and Fergus had actually been the ones to discover the bolt hole in the pantry through which he and Duncan escaped when Howe attacked. He mentioned Ser Gilmore a few times, but talking about the knight was obviously painful for him. I assumed that perhaps they'd been lovers, but didn't have the heart to ask.

We spent some time trying to compare calendars between home and Thedas. The names of the months didn't line up, but otherwise it wasn't a bad comparison. We counted it out, and realised that, as best we could tell, Aedan and I shared a birthday. We were the same exact age, down to the day. Somehow that just cemented things for us, and I started thinking of him as actually being my brother, not just being 'like a brother'. It was an odd feeling, to think of myself as part of a family.

I spent a bit of time with Leliana, but the bard was still play-acting her girly, ditzy Chantry sister role, and it felt too fake. I knew it wouldn't last, and strongly suspected I'd like her better when she reintegrated the fiercer aspect of her personality. Sten almost never spoke to me, although he seemed to tolerate me walking quietly by his side. I think he might even have been a bit intrigued that I was the only person who didn't pester him to explain aspects of Qunari culture. He was skeptical that I knew anything about his sword, Asala, but I wasn't worried. I really wanted Aedan to take credit for it anyway.

Morrigan almost never travelled with us, preferring to spend her days flying above us in bird form. After some initial shock, it seemed everyone had accepted her shapechanging abilities and we now relied on them heavily to scout ahead. I did spend a fair bit of time talking with her in the evenings, though. Aedan made the effort, but none of the rest of the party seemed to bother getting to know the beautiful witch, and that bothered me. I was surprised that, once you could get past the prickly exterior, she was actually quite funny, in a sarcastic way, and she made fun of Alistair a lot less than I recalled her doing in the game. I was undecided whether the game just played that aspect up for entertainment value, or whether she had toned it down after I told her I knew that she didn't dislike him as much as she let on. I decided that it didn't matter which, since Alistair was being left alone, and the two of them could mostly stand spending time together without acting like children.

I did find myself avoiding Alistair as we travelled. As I got more and more comfortable talking with Aedan, I got less and less so with the enormous templar. It wasn't that he was unkind, or disrespectful, or anything else bad. It was actually quite the opposite - he was so sweet, and thoughtful, and kind, and good looking, that I found myself awkward around him, stuttering, forgetting what I was saying, getting caught staring instead of listening. I had given numerous reasons to Tomas why we couldn't ever be together, and I meant them, but being around him made it hard to keep my resolve. So I avoided him. I tried to be subtle in my avoidance, but obviously didn't entirely succeed, because I found Aedan frequently giving me sympathetic looks when I switched between groups of companions.

And each night it was the same. I'd stay awake, long after everyone else went to sleep, avoiding my lonely tent. I'd sit and scribble in my notebooks by the fire, or talk to whoever was on watch. I fell asleep on more than a few shoulders, slept on Prince a few times, finally being shaken awake and made to go to bed, and I woke up covered in a blanket by the fire or having been carried into my tent more than once. I became more and more exhausted as the days wore on, until finally one day Aedan insisted I sit on Bodahn's cart instead of walking. He tried to be kind about it, but I knew I was slowing them down. I agreed without argument and made a space for myself among all our gear on the cart. It wasn't comfortable, but I was so tired that eventually I fell asleep.

When I woke, I was far less uncomfortable than I had been while crammed onto the cart, and I wondered if someone had picked me up and put me in my tent or something. But as details flooded in, I realised I was in a bed, not on a bedroll, and I was wearing...not a lot. I opened my eyes to the tiled, ugly, industrial ceiling of a hospital room. I was wearing one of those horrible gowns, there was an IV in my arm...and this time, a catheter. Wonderful.

I rolled to the side to push the button that raised the head of the bed, and as I sat up I realised I was in a large room with multiple other beds, all occupied. Most of my room-mates were in worse shape than me - several had breathing tubes, in addition to other unidentified wires and tubes snaking out from under the blankets. All of them had large, complicated, noisy monitors running, I assumed to keep track of heart beats and breaths and the like. I looked over and realised that I was also connected to monitors, although I didn't seem to have any tubes or anything I couldn't explain. As I struggled to sit up, the little thingy attached to my finger fell off, and the monitor began to beep.

A couple of nurses bolted into the room, I assumed because of the noise, but when they saw me awake, one changed directions to go call the doctor. The other came over, trying to hide the shock and concern on her face behind a professional mask as she checked my monitors, took a blood pressure, and examined my IV site and checked my catheter bag, which was almost empty.

"What day is it?" She told me, and I did the math - I'd been in Thedas for almost two weeks. I was continually amazed that the days lined up evenly like that. "How did I get here?"

She told me that someone had gone to my door, she didn't know who, and when I didn't answer they peeked in my window and saw me lying face down on the floor. They called 911, and the ambulance brought me in. I'd apparently only been in hospital seven days, so I must have spent the first six on the floor.

Just then the doctor arrived, the same one I'd seen the last time. The one I had told about my dreams. His face was drawn, and he looked tired. I tried to be cheerful, but the look on his face was grim.

"What's up, doc?"

"Hi Sierra. It's good to see you awake." He waved off the nurse, and she left us alone.

"You have a truly terrible poker face, doc, anyone ever told you that?" He tried to smile and failed.

"So I've heard. I won't lie to you. You have me worried."

"What's happening? Was I in kidney failure from laying on the floor for so long? Is something else wrong?" He looked surprised at the kidney question, but dismissed all my guesses with the wave of a hand.

"No, no. Nothing is exactly wrong. It's like I told you before - your body is completely fine, but your mind is just...gone. No brain activity, flatline EEG. And this time you were out for seven days!"

"Thirteen, actually. I think I must have been laying on the floor a while when they found me."

He frowned. "That can't be. They didn't mention anything about you having...uh..."

"Wet myself? Yeah, it would seem I don't do that. It's not the first time. I've had a couple of other long blackouts since we last met, and I didn't then either."

"But you weren't dehydrated, or malnourished, and like you asked, you weren't in kidney failure. You must be misremembering." I shrugged. Medical explanation or not, I knew it had been two weeks. "Have you been dreaming again?"

"Yep. It's like I'm living two lives. I remember both, but they're separate. That one is sort of medieval. The number of days I'm unconscious even line up with the number of days I spend there." He shook his head, slowly, obviously confused.

"Well, let me tell you this. You're not going home any time soon. I want you here for observation at the very least."

"Can I have my own stuff? Can I visit my own house to get it? And can I wear my own clothes? This hospital gown is fashionable, but I'd really rather be in jeans." _I'd really like to avoid waking in Thedas wearing only a hospital gown. Oh, damn, I just jinxed myself._

He nodded. "The nurses can help make arrangements. You'll probably be moved to a different room. The ICU is no place for someone who's awake."

"Thanks, doc."

He was right about being moved - half an hour after he left, they had me in a semi-private room, catheter out, and had found me my clothes from when I'd been admitted. I put them on, at least relieved that they would be better than the gown. The nurses looked at me strange when I put on the extra t-shirt, the jacket, and the boots. I shrugged.

I overheard a conversation between the doctor and some nurses. Apparently, the entire time I'd been out, my catheter had drained exactly how much fluid they had given me by IV, no more and no less. Which is evidently not normal. And when you don't eat, something weird is supposed to happen to the potassium levels in your blood, but despite thirteen days of not being fed, it didn't happen to me. They were debating whether I needed a feeding tube and permanent IV lines for the next time I blacked out. The protocols said yes, but my apparently strange responses indicated that somehow, my body didn't require that. I finally stepped in, politely refusing all of the procedures unless my medical condition was deteriorating during my next blackout. It wondered if, as long as my body in Thedas was being fed and allowed to manage its own issues - like peeing - my body at home would just continue on. I briefly wondered how many papers would be written about that. I tried very hard not to think about what would happen if my body in Thedas didn't stay healthy.

I wasn't allowed to go home, but I managed to get hold of my landlady, a sweet older woman who agreed to go to my place the next morning and call me from there, and bring me anything I asked for. I got her to bring my laptop, my purse, a large bag with personal hygiene products like soap and shampoo, a bunch of clothes, and my remaining box of coin. She didn't even question why I wanted multiple pairs of socks, an extra pair of boots, and an extra jacket.

I showered and got cleaned up, dressing again in heavy clothing once my landlady had come and gone, putting more coin, shampoo, and soap in my pockets, and then had nothing to do. I read on the wiki, refreshing my memory so I could write more in my notebooks when I got back. I slept, and ate, and chatted with the nurses, cleaning staff, and anyone else I could find. Apparently my fear of sleep only existed when I was in Thedas. I dealt with my insurance company, made sure every bill I had was set to be automatically deducted from my account, and got a Legal Will kit and information about enduring Power of Attorney from the hospital's social worker. And the whole time I was just entirely frustrated wondering what was happening in Thedas. It was only one day on Earth, but it dragged on for what felt like forever.

The morning of the second day, I was walking around the hospital ward, pacing really, when the dizziness hit. I sagged onto a nearby unoccupied wheelchair, reflecting that at least this time, I didn't have to worry about what would happen to my body while I was gone.

* * *

As always, thanks to my editing team - Rhia, Bookwyrm, Melinda, and Kira Tamarion, without whom this would suck much worse. I don't own Dragon Age, I just play here.

Thanks for all the amazing reviews! You guys made my week. Please let me know how you like this one!

Reviews:

MoonlightPatronus: Glad you're having as much fun as I am! But you know, don't risk people thinking you're nuts for my sake ;) I'm looking forward to writing Zev. And reading up on bits of Italian. Whee!

Great Northern One: Some of the other origins may indeed make an appearance. Sierra's a seriously curious person :)

Dur'id the Druid: You can never read too many "Modern man gets stuck in the past stories" :) Though I think, since Sierra and company are trying to keep a low profile, she probably won't try to sell her paper money, though you're likely right that it would have some value to the right merchant...

draupadi: Yes there will be romance. Not that it is hard to figure out some, but I'm not giving any spoilers ;) I started out as an erotica writer, so there'll be some sex, eventually. I'll mark it well so people who don't want to, don't have to read it.

olivegbg: I admit I'm curious what Duncan would look like without a beard. And Cailan with a Justin Bieber haircut, for that matter. I have a decent imagination, but apparently not that good.

clafount: Indeed Sierra will try to avoid meeting Goldanna, though she'll probably avoid mentioning what a bitch she is just in case Alistair harbours fond feelings. What he doesn't know won't kill him :)

InsidiousAgent: I'm not so much on the bloodthirsty side, myself, so I hope you won't be too disappointed. Character development is definitely what I'm going for, so feel free to PM me feedback in that regard :)


	13. Laying Groundwork

**Chapter Thirteen: Laying Groundwork**

When I woke, I was lying in front of the fire, surrounded by familiar tents. Alistair, on watch, shouted in surprise, and my new companions came pouring out of their tents. I expected suspicion or weirdness, showing up in the middle of them like this, but all I got were relieved smiles and some teasing about yet again wearing my strange Earth clothes.

The clothes thing was starting to weird me out. _Somehow Ferelden clothing stayed here, but Earth clothing transferred over? What the hell?_ I shrugged. Nothing I could do about it.

Leliana and Aedan hugged me, and Theron attempted to, which was awkward. Sten ignored me, but I thought I saw a smile when he thought no one was looking. Alistair smiled and clapped me on the shoulder, almost knocking me over. Morrigan sniffed, but managed to somehow look not totally unhappy. Bodahn smiled broadly and welcomed me back, though where he thought I'd gone was anyone's guess. Sandal seemed unfazed, muttering his usual "enchantment?" and we all chuckled.

We decided to break camp early, since everyone was awake anyway. Aedan figured we were just over a day's march from Redcliffe. I changed into my local clothing, while everyone else got ready. We walked, and I carried my sword as usual. Having rested well while at home, I was actually energetic, and spent most of the day teasing everyone. At one point Leliana pulled me aside, walking where the rest of the party couldn't see.

"Here. I want you to have this." She handed me a small circular object, attached by a loop onto a leather tie. I realised it was a necklace with the symbol of Andraste on it. The stone was smooth with wear, the symbol slightly faded. I tried to refuse, but she interrupted me.

"I know you're not an Andrastian. You don't believe in the Maker. I'm not giving this to you as a religious symbol. I'm giving it to you because...I hate it when you disappear, and it's only happened twice, so far. I hate wondering if you disappeared, or just left us. I hate feeling like we're leaving you behind when we keep going without you. What if you were kidnapped? Caught by darkspawn or bandits or...and we just left you, because we assumed you disappeared?

"I want you to wear it. I want you to promise that you will never leave your tent without this on. I assume if you disappear right in front of someone's eyes, it won't bother me. But if you promise me always to take it off when you sleep, and never to get up without putting it back on, at least then I'll know. If this is left behind, you disappeared, you didn't choose to leave us. If you aren't there and neither is this, we need to look for you. It lets me figure out when to worry, and when to just assume you went home.

"Promise me?"

I nodded, touched beyond belief at the gesture from the bard. It hinted that her fears and mine weren't so very different, made me feel slightly less insane for hating to go to sleep like I did. I put the token around my neck, tucking it out of sight, and hugged her gratefully. She seemed to understand that I didn't have the words.

That night we camped a couple of hours outside of Redcliffe. Everyone was on edge, with armour being polished, weapons sharpened, and no one talking much. Aedan showed me how to sharpen my thin sword and the dagger strapped to my leg, and then I spent some time reminding everyone what we would face. I quietly encouraged Alistair to have his little parentage discussion with Aedan now, rather than wait, and he grimaced but complied. It seemed like everyone else remained unaware, though how they could with Theron sitting right there was beyond me. Even with the different haircut and the bottle-brown disguise, the resemblance between Theron and Alistair was uncanny.

The plan was relatively simple - they would all aid the townsfolk in preparing for the battle, and then Theron and I would wait in the Chantry during the fight. Theron wasn't pleased, and frankly neither was I, but we all knew it was necessary. We decided that I would be 'Lady Sierra' again, and could therefore claim Theron as my personal bodyguard to explain why he wasn't fighting. I thought letting Teagan know Theron's actual identity would be fine, but Aedan wanted to wait until we had cleared the castle and sedated Connor. And we didn't need anyone else in town knowing, so we all agreed.

I got a quick lesson from Aedan, with comments thrown in by Theron, on how to address nobility assuming I was truly the daughter of some unknown minor lord. The King, obviously enough, was 'your majesty' or sire. No 'your highness' in Ferelden. A Teyrn or an Arl was 'your Grace' to someone unfamiliar; everyone underneath that was 'my lord'.

I was sitting by the fire, after everyone had finally crawled off to their tents except Sten who was on watch, when Aedan approached me. He started with a few pleasantries, but I could tell he had something on his mind. He finally got to it after a few awkward minutes.

"So, why are you here?"

I blinked, unsure how to answer that. "Did you want me to leave?"

"No, no. I meant why are you out _here_? Instead of in your perfectly serviceable tent, for example."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I...look, I really don't want to talk about it."

"I notice that when you think we should talk about something, even if we're set on protecting our secrets, you're quite single-minded. But you have quite a few secrets of your own, it seems. I would normally try to respect your privacy, but I think in this circumstance I'm going to have to insist. There's something very wrong, and everyone can tell. It's impacting your ability to cope, and we need you alert. So please. Tell me. Is it Duncan? Or something back in your world? I won't tell everyone, I promise."

I examined his face, seeing only worry for me there. I thought back to being so exhausted I was forced to ride the cart. I sighed.

"I'm afraid to sleep alone."

"What? Do you normally share a bed with someone at home? I had understood you to be unmarried."

"I'm not married. It's not a problem there, I sleep alone no problem. It's just here." I struggled to make sense of it myself, never mind explain. _Impossible_. "I can't defend myself. What if we get attacked while I'm sleeping? I know for a fact that one morning we're going to be ambushed by shrieks."

Aedan studied my face, his expression thoughtful. "It's a good point, although I think we should have decent warning given how you've changed our watch schedule. And while I'm sure it's part of the reason, your face says there's more."

"Look, I...I hate not knowing what's going to happen. Sometimes I sleep and I wake again and everything is fine. Sometimes I sleep and wake up...there. I'm afraid...I don't know. It feels like if I fall asleep, I might just disappear altogether. Maybe never come back. Maybe just die, and never be anywhere. It sounds ridiculous, and having someone share my tent isn't going to prevent any of that but...maybe I'm just afraid of dying alone? I truly don't know. All I know is that the idea of crawling into that tent and just going to sleep in there, all alone, makes me feel like I'll just start screaming and never be able to stop. If I'm out here, at least I'll be so sleepy when I end up in there that I don't notice."

Aedan examined me for a few more moments, his face sympathetic. I was mortified. It was different with Tomas - it seemed somehow okay to lean on him. I didn't want Aedan to see me as being this weak. He finally pulled me into a fierce hug, which I was suddenly intensely grateful for. I hugged back, a few tears falling, trying to be okay with being vulnerable. I was terrible at it. He finally let me go, wiping a tear away with a calloused finger.

"So...you're my sister." The way he said it wasn't a question. I nodded - I felt the same. "Which means it would be completely appropriate for me to protect your virtue by insisting you share your brother's tent. What if you move your bedroll into my tent for now? We can make our tent bigger next time we set up camp, but I think we can both fit if we stow our gear in yours. What do you say?"

My mouth hanging open in shock as I listened, I could only nod gratefully. Twice in one day these people were being incredibly kind to me, when they really didn't need to be.

_I feel so lucky_.

I ducked into my tent, quickly, grabbing my bedroll, and he took his large pack out of his tent and tossed it into mine. I placed my bedroll beside his, crawling in and settling down to sleep as he collapsed beside me. I slipped Leliana's amulet over my head and tucked it into the blankets beside me as Aedan watched, curiously.

"Thanks, Aedan."

He reached over and took my hand, not letting go. "You're welcome, sister."

I fell asleep still clutching his hand, and slept better than I had since first finding myself in Ferelden.

The next morning I woke before Aedan, noting with an embarrassed smile that I still held his hand. I carefully let go, sitting up to rub my eyes. Having slept fully dressed, I decided to head out before I accidentally woke him with my fidgeting. I put the amulet back on, then crawled carefully away, silently slipping through the flap of the tent. I paused at my own tent to grab my pack, and headed down to the stream Bodahn had mentioned. If I was going to play the part of the noblewoman again, I needed to look it.

As I approached the location where I thought Bodahn had pointed, I heard splashing. Assuming Leliana or Morrigan were already there, I thought to share my shampoo and headed through an opening in a thick hedge towards where the sound originated. I stopped cold, however, and quickly backed away again as I realised that I had incorrectly guessed not only the identity, but also the gender of the bather. Alistair was kneeling, naked I assumed, in waist-deep water, eyes closed while he scrubbed soap into his blond hair.

His chiselled face was upturned, the early morning light making his skin appear to glow. He had just a hint of stubble on his chin, and it emphasized the masculinity of his strong jaw. Water and soap suds trickled down his neck and chest to dissipate into the stream, highlighting his broad shoulders, tight muscles, and rippling six-pack. He turned to dunk his head, and his equally buff back was also dripping water and soap. My fingers clenched involuntarily, and I realised that I had never wanted to touch anyone in my entire life as much as I wanted to touch him right then. I groaned softly to myself as his impressively firm ass came into view as he stood. I had a minor freak-out – this was actually Alistair. The real one. Gorgeous and built and beautiful and absolutely corporeal, not imaginary. I suddenly panicked, realising that if he turned, I was screwed. I spun, quickly, and hurried back up the trail, plowing straight into a very surprised Aedan.

"Good morning, Sierra. You're sure up early. I was almost worried when you weren't in the tent when I awoke." His brow wrinkled as he took in my wide eyes, flushed cheeks, and gasping breaths. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, Aedan. Um. The stream is, ah, occupied. I'll come back."

Dodging around him, I slipped back into camp and crawled into my now empty tent, hoping to God no one else had seen me. I was certain my face was scarlet, and I couldn't seem to burn the image of the naked Greek Adonis that was Alistair out of my brain. Part of me wanted to strip down and fantasize about him like I did in the dark privacy of my bedroom after the romance scenes from the game. Another good sized part wanted me to crawl back out of the tent, go back to the stream, and throw myself on the mercy of the naked man himself. A small part of me seriously considered throwing up. All of the feelings were as embarrassing as they were unwelcome, and I ended up doing none of the above; instead I put my head between my knees, wrapped my arms around myself, and tried to recite annoying quotes from the bible that one of my foster-mothers had made me learn.

_Wait, hell no. If I'm in Thedas I might at least try to quote the Chant of Light...Great, now all I can think about is the Peas of the Maker and the Bacon and shield, from that crazy sister in Denerim._

At that I could finally laugh, a little, and decided I was as together as I was likely to get. _I'll never look Alistair in the face again, though..._ With a sigh, I crawled back out of my tent, with pack still in hand, and found Alistair walking by just as I emerged. Avoiding eye contact, face reddening instantly, I heaved my pack onto my shoulder, muttered something about washing, and dashed away. Spotting Leliana, I dragged her with me, making her stand guard so no one wandered in on me the way I did on Alistair. I washed almost frenetically, scrubbing myself thoroughly, washing away the dirt and sweat of a couple of days of hard walking. I washed my hair, rinsed it thoroughly, and then climbed into the safety of my normal clothes, before throwing my dress and cloak overtop.

Back by the fire, Leliana made a fuss of doing my hair to look the part of the Fereldan noblewoman. She frowned as I strapped my dagger to my thigh under the dress, and then asked Bodahn if he had a sheath for my sword which would work with a dress. He found one which looked mostly like a simple leather belt, but was adjustable enough that I could spin it to hide the sword underneath the cloak. I was surprised, but she just gave me a serious look.

"You will need to be able to protect yourself. I won't see you helpless." I nodded, and admitted that even though it was heavy, I felt safer with the sword at my hip. _And later I can use it on Alistair if he so much as looks at me._ I sighed and wandered off to pack my belongings and put my tent into Bodahn's cart.

Once everyone was packed, we bid a temporary goodbye to Bodahn and Sandal, who were going to stay put until we came back for them at the campsite outside the beleaguered town. Setting out at a quick pace, we headed to Redcliffe and whatever uncertainty awaited us there.

As we walked, Theron approached me, taking my arm and slowing up a bit so that we trailed behind a little. Distracted by my stupid dress and the sword getting stuck in the folds on my cloak, I didn't really notice until we were out of earshot of the rest of the group.

"Are you really going to stay in the Chantry during the fight?"

"Yes, Theron, and so are you."

"But-"

"No buts. You will stay alive. I have reason to believe that they," I pointed at the group in front of us, "will be fine. I have absolutely no reason to believe the same thing about you. So you will stand in the Chantry and behave like a good bodyguard, and live to see tomorrow, or I will have Aedan and Alistair tie you up and leave you there. Your choice." He was quiet, and I sensed resignation, not resentment. _Thank God for small mercies._

I sped up again, catching up to Sten, and enjoyed the silence of his company for a while. Theron went to walk with Aedan and Alistair, the three of them trading bullshit like any group of boys. I rolled my eyes and concentrated on just keeping walking. I'd been spoiled by having Bodahn carry all our stuff, and I wasn't really happy to have my heavy pack back on my shoulder.

By the time we were close enough to see the smoke from the pyres burning in Redcliffe, I was in agony, again. I tried valiantly to hide my discomfort, and mostly succeeded. As before, Alistair was the only one to notice. He took the strap off my shoulder, looking confused and slightly offended as I blushed and refused to meet his gaze. Shrugging, but ever the gentleman, he shouldered my pack alongside his own and walked on. I followed, miserable to have hurt him, even unintentionally, but absolutely unable to ever explain.

When we reached Redcliffe, Aedan took the lead with Sten, Leliana, Morrigan (who had landed and joined us just before we hit the edge of the cliff), and Alistair falling in behind him, Prince at his side. Theron had taken my pack and hovered behind me, helmet on, hand on the pommel of his sword, looking every inch the protective bodyguard. We followed the sentry down to the Chantry and were ushered inside to meet with Bann Teagan.

He greeted Aedan and company like a man who has just been thrown a lifeline when he was convinced he was going to drown. He was polite to me, hurrying to offer 'Lady Sierra of Wentwater' a seat, but really only paid attention to those he thought could fight. The poor man looked exhausted, and I wondered if he'd had any sleep at all in the last few days. He was almost in tears when Aedan told him that they would help defend the village.

I followed them outside, Theron hovering, as they spoke with the Mayor and split up tasks. Aedan went off to deal with the reluctant, drunk blacksmith and get him working. It took a bit of doing, but I had convinced Leliana to speak with Ser Perth and then cajole the Revered Mother into a little white lie to improve morale. Alistair, Theron, and Sten went to the village store and picked up massive barrels of lamp oil to ignite the path and hopefully slow, if not re-kill, the undead up the hill. Morrigan went...I have no idea what she was doing, actually. Prince was largely running around and smelling the entire town, including the pyres burning the remains of the attackers and those that had perished from the night before. I spoke with several of the families in the Chantry, giving reassurance as much as I could, and went and found the little boy who had run away from his sister. I ran into Aedan, who had finished with the blacksmith, and talked him into coming with me to the home of Dwyn, the dwarf mercenary I knew was hiding out in town.

Aedan picked the lock to Dwyn's place – I wondered where he'd learned those skills – and we were in. It smelled like a locker-room for a high school football team, mixed with stale beer. Ugh, man sweat. Why don't they have deodorant in Ferelden? I took a moment to thank the Maker (or whoever) that my companions had adjusted to bathing as frequently as I liked to, so most of them were not as pungent. I shuddered as I considered a future travelling with Oghren. Aedan managed to convince Dwyn to fight while I was daydreaming, offering that both he and I would favourably mention him to the Bann and the Arl, but I shocked even Aedan when I spoke.

"Dwyn, may I ask, have you recently bought any new weapons?" I smiled sweetly, trying to look girly. _Knowing my luck I probably just look constipated or something_. I persevered. "I heard a rumour that a brave dwarf near these parts might have bought a Qunari blade in the last few weeks."

"What's it to you, sweetheart?" Aedan tensed at my side and I gestured at him to stay out of it.

"I'd like to buy it from you, actually." Both Dwyn and Aedan stared at me, dumbstruck, and I laughed. "Come now. Will you show it to my friend here? Please?"

Muttering to himself, Dwyn stomped into a back room. I heard some cursing, some rustling, and a loud squeak, and then he reappeared with the largest sword I'd ever seen. Aedan examined it with interest, but I didn't even try to pick it up. I doubted I'd be able to even carry it, nevermind swing it.

Dwyn named a ridiculous price, and Aedan immediately countered far too low. As they haggled, Aedan was getting frustrated and it seemed like Dwyn was being a jerk, just because he could. And then I got an idea.

"Wait, Aedan. You know what? Instead of buying it, maybe I'll just go and get Sten." Aedan caught on to my bluff right away.

"Who's Sten?"

"Oh, you know who I mean. Seven feet tall, cranky disposition? The one who murdered eight people with his bare hands just because they didn't know where this sword was? I'm sure if I tell him that Dwyn here knows where it is, he'll be quite reasonable when he comes to collect it."

Dwyn's face paled, and he held his hand up in a conciliatory fashion. I wondered if he'd ever met an angry Qunari before. "Wait now, sweetheart, don't be hasty. I didn't say I wouldn't sell it. How about we make a deal." I nodded, and he and Aedan agreed on a price we could live with. Dwyn promised to be out in the square when night fell, and Aedan hoisted the enormous weapon on his shoulder as we strolled back through the village.

* * *

A/N:

As usual, I do not own Dragon Age. I just play here.

Many thanks to my team of editors who keep me on the straight and narrow: Kira Tamarion, Bookwyrm, Rhia, and Melinda.

Reviews:

Roguekittiekat: Not giving out spoilers in the romance department. No no no! Stop looking at me like that! :)

Everyone else: Thanks for the support! I feel loved :)


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